LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF 
CALIFORNIA 
SAW  DIEGO 


/Cti* 


THE    ATHENAEUM    PRESS    SERIES 

G.  L.  KITTREDGE   AND  C.  T.  WINCHESTER 
GENERAL   EDITORS 


Cbe 
Htben^eum  press  Series. 

This  series  is  intended  to  furnish  a 
library  of  the  best  English  literature 
from  Chaucer  to  the  present  time  in  a 
form  adapted  to  the  needs  of  both  the 
student  and  the  general  reader.  The 
works  selected  are  carefully  edited,  with 
biographical  and  critical  introductions, 
full  explanatory  notes,  and  other  neces- 
sary apparatus. 


ROBERT    HERRICK. 


SELECTIONS 


FROM   THE   POETRY  OF 


ROBERT   HERRICK 


EDITED    BY 


EDWARD  EVERETT  HALE,  JR.,  PH.D.  (HALLE) 

PROFESSOR  OF  ENGLISH  IN  THE  STATE  UNIVERSITY  OF  IOWA 


BOSTON,  U.S.A. 

GINN    &   COMPANY,    PUBLISHERS 
1895 


COPYRIGHT,  1895,  BY 
EDWARD   EVERETT   HALE,   JR. 


ALL   RKiHTS    RESERVED 


PREFACE. 


THIS  volume  of  selections  is  meant  as  well  for  those 
readers  who  are  content  to  enjoy  Herrick's  poetry  as  for 
those  who  desire  to  study  a  little  the  things  which  they 
have  enjoyed.  With  such  a  double  object  there  have 
been  certain  difficulties  ;  some  things  which  are  interest- 
ing to  the  student  are  very  dry  to  the  lover  of  poetry, 
and  something  might  be  said  on  the  other  side  as  well. 
Some  concessions  have  to  be  made  to  each  necessity.  I 
have  tried  to  give  all  Herrick's  best  poems  ;  but  I  have 
also,  by  including  some  that  are  by  no  means  his  best, 
aimed  at  giving  an  idea  of  his  work  that  would  be  fairly 
accurate  as  well  as  pleasing.  I  have  not  thought  it 
necessary  to  preserve  the  original  and  often  erroneous 
spelling  and  punctuation ;  but  it  has  seemed  well  to 
follow  it  where  it  really  tells  us  something  about  the 
pronunciation,  whether  for  the  sake  of  the  metre  or  for 
other  reasons.  I  have  tried  to  point  out  some  of  the 
things  which  are  delightful  in  Herrick's  poetry ;  but  I 
have  not  shunned  the  discussion  of  several  matters  which 
may  seem  aridly  scholastic.  I  have  also  omitted  a  few 
lines  here  and  there,  as  is  indicated  by  the  numbering. 


viii  PREFACE. 

I  have  been  aided  by  the  studies  of  several  of  my  pre- 
decessors who  are  mentioned  in  the  Bibliography,  and 
must  especially  acknowledge  the  help  I  have  had  from 
the  work  of  Dr.  Grosart  and  Mr.  Pollard.  Their  editions 
are  referred  to  so  often  that  I  have  used  merely  the  ini- 
tials G.  and  P.  I  may  also  remark  here  that  the  abbre- 
viation Diss.  refers  to  the  Dissertation  mentioned  on 
p.  Ixx,  and  that  poems  are  referred  to  by  the  number  in 
Mr.  Pollard's  edition. 

Lastly,  I  am  glad  to  mention  the  kindness  of  my  col- 
league Professor  A.  N.  Currier,  who  has  always  been 
ready  to  aid  my  recollections  of  the  Latin  poets  whom 
Herrick  admired  so  much,  and,  most  particularly,  that  of 
Professor  G.  L.  Kittredge,  who  has  helped  me  with  many 
a  reference  not  only  to  the  Latin  but  to  English  poets  as 
well,  and  whose  suggestions  throughout  have  been  of  the 
greatest  value. 

STATE  UNIVERSITY  OF  IOWA, 
April  4th,  1895. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

INTRODUCTION xi 

I.   ON  THE  LIFE  OF  HERRICK xi 

II.   THE  HESPERIDES            xviii 

III.   THE  NOBLE  NUMBERS xlvi 

.  IV.   CHRONOLOGICAL  EVIDENCE  OF  HERRICK'S  POEMS      .  xlviii 

V.   VERSIFICATION  AND  VOCABULARY    ....  lv 

VI.   HERRICK  THE  POET       .        .        .        ...        .        .  Ixiii 

VII.   BIBLIOGRAPHY Ixv 

SELECTIONS  FROM  THE  POETRY  OF  HERRICK  i 

FROM  THE  HESPERIDES 3 

His  FAREWELL  UNTO  POETRY 133 

FROM  THE  NOBLE  NUMBERS 137 

NOTES 157 

GLOSSARY 185 

INDEX  TO  FIRST  LINES           .        .        .        ...        .        .  193 


INTRODUCTION. 


I.     ON   THE   LIFE   OF   HERRICK. 

ALMOST  all  editors  are  zealous  to  give  us  a  Life  of  their 
author,  —  to  tell  when  he  was  born,  what  he  did,  how  he 
lived,  and  when  he  died.  About  a  poet  these  are  among 
the  least  necessary  things  to  know,  and  more  especially 
about  a  lyric  poet.  What  we  really  want  to  know  is  what 
kind  of  man  he  was  and  what  kind  of  poetry  he  wrote. 
In  so  far  as  his  birth,  and  parentage,  and  education,  and 
friendships,  and  occupations,  and  so  forth,  —  in  so  far  as 
facts  about  these  things  help  us  to  know  him  and  his 
poetry,  they  are  good.  Otherwise  they  are  matters  of 
minor  curiosity.  We  may,  therefore,  be  thankful  that 
concerning  Herrick  we  know  a  little  as  to  these  matters, 
and  only  a  little.  We  know  enough  on  the  main  points, 
and  not  too  much  concerning  the  trivialities;  we  know  so 
little  that  we  must  depend  chiefly  on  his  work,  and  so 
much  that  we  can  on  the  whole  apprehend  his  work  very 
well. 

What  little  there  is  to  say  of  Herrick's  life  without  in- 
voking the  aid  of  his  poetry,  though  not  very  interesting, 
does  at  least  give  us  the  main  facts.  His  various  editors 
have  been  somewhat  successful  in  finding  the  names  of 
his  parents,  his  brothers  and  sisters,  of  his  uncles  and 
aunts,  and  of  a  good  many  friends  and  connections.  They 
have  fixed,  too,  the  main  events  of  his  life  down  to  the 
year  1648,  after  which  we  are  sadly  in  the  dark.  But  it 
cannot  be  said  that  the  chronicle  offers  many  remarkable 


XII 


INTROD  UCTION. 


circumstances.  It  is  hard  to  make  it  much  more  than 
a  list  of  names  and  dates.  It  is  not  until  we  get  to  his 
poetry  that  Herrick  becomes  a  real  man.  Such  as  it  is, 
however,  the  narrative  runs  thus:  — 

Nicholas  Herrick,  of  Leicester,  the  son  of  John  (who 
spelled  his  name  Eyrick),  sometime  mayor  of  that  city, 
came  to  London  a  dozen  years  or  so  before  William 
Shakespeare,  and  there  became  a  goldsmith.  There,  too, 
he  married.  His  wife  was  apparently  of  good  family,  and 
had  at  any  rate  connections  of  position  in  the  city.  Mar- 
ried in  1582,  they  had  seven1  children,  the  eldest  born 
three  years  after  the  marriage,  the  youngest  only  fifteen 
months  before  the  death  of  his  father.  This  youngest 
born  was  Robert  Herrick,  and  his  birthday  was  August 
24,  1591.  Little  more  than  a  year  afterward  Nicholas 
Herrick  was  killed  by  a  fall  from  a  high  window.  What- 
ever may  have  been  the  real  cause,  there  was  suspicion  that 
the  death  was  a  suicide,  on  which  account  a  good  sum 
had  to  be  paid  to  the  High  Almoner  to  buy  off  the  legal 
claim  that  thus  existed  upon  all  that  was  left  behind.  As 
it  was,  however,  the  widow  was  left  in  what  seem  fairly 
comfortable  circumstances.  The  estate  was  about  ,£5000, 
or,  as  money  was  worth  then,  something  like  $125,000  of 
American  money  of  the  present  day.  Nicholas  Herrick's 
brothers  were  made  guardians  of  the  children  and  man- 
agers of  their  share  of  the  property.  William  Herrick, 
who  became  subsequently  Sir  William,  was,  like  Nicholas, 
a  goldsmith,  and  to  him  in  course  of  time  was  Robert  ap- 
prenticed for  ten  years.  He  probably  had  some  school- 
ing, but  what  it  was  cannot  be  said.  Dr.  Grosart  thinks 
he  may  have  gone  to  Westminster. 

What  sort  of  prentice  the  future  poet  made  we  do  not 
know.  We  do  know,  however,  that  in  1614,  some  years 

1  Tradition  adds  an  eighth,  said  to  be  younger  than  Robert. 


INTRODUCTION.  xiii 

before  his  time  was  up,  he  desired  to  stop  being  a  pren- 
tice and  go  to  the  University.  His  uncle  seems  to  have 
made  no  opposition,  and  he  entered  as  Fellow  Commoner 
at  St.  John's  College,  Cambridge,  being  at  that  time 
twenty-one  years  of  age. 

As  to  Herrick's  university  life  we  are  not  left  wholly 
in  the  dark,  for  to  this  period  belong  the  only  products  of 
his  pen  preserved  to  us  besides  his  poems.  There  are  a 
number  of  charming  letters  from  the  future  poet  (proba- 
bly more  or  less  of  a  poet  then,  too)  addressed  to  his 
uncle  and  guardian.  They  are  all  of  one  tenor ;  they  all 
sound  a  note  that  one  can  easily  imagine  in  the  letters  of 
a  student  to  his  guardian.  Herrick  was  not  without  hu- 
mor in  his  university  days.  "  Before  you  unsealed  my 
letter  (right  worshipful)  it  cannot  be  doubted  but  you  had 
perfect  knowledge  of  the  essence  of  my  writing  before 
you  read  it ;  for  custom  hath  made  you  expert  in  my  plain- 
song  (mitte  pecuniam),  that  being  the  cause  sine  qua  non, 
or  the  power  that  gives  life  and  being  to  each  matter." 
Sometimes  Herrick  asks  for  his  usual  allowance,  some-' 
times  he  hopes  that  an  advance  can  be  made  him,  some- 
times he  seems  to  hope  there  will  be  a  bit  over  and  above 
the  ^"40  a  year  that  was  apparently  the  sum  to  which, 
like  Goldsmith's  Pastor,  he  found  himself  entitled.  •  In 
spite  of  money's  being  worth  more  in  Herrick's  time  than 
nowadays,  in  spite  of  Herrick's  having  only  himself  to 
care  for,  he  seems  never  to  have  felt  comfortably  off.  At 
any  rate,  he  moved  in  a  year  or  so  over  to  Trinity  Hall, 
where  the  expenses  were  less  than  at  St.  John's,  and 
there,  in  1617,  he  took  his  Bachelor's  degree,  and  three 
years  later  his  Master's.  In  1620  he  returned  to  London. 

What  Herrick  did  in  London  and  how  he  supported 
himself  cannot  now  be  said  with  any  accuracy.  There  is 
no  doubt,  however,  that,  whatever  else  he  did,  he  began 


xiv  INTRODUCTION. 

now  to  become  known  as  a  poet.  At  this  time  Ben  Jon- 
son  was  a  sort  of  Dictator  in  the  Republic  of  Letters,  and 
it  is  evident  from  references  in  the  Hesperides  that  Her- 
rick  made  one  of  the  group  of  younger  poets  who  gathered 
round  the  great  man,  received  rules  from  him  at  the  Devil 
Tavern,  and,  to  speak  technically,  were  "  sealed  of  the 
tribe  of  Ben."  Other  friends  of  Herrick  we  hear  of,  but 
not  so  many  as  to  give  us  any  clear  notion  of  his  life.  Mr. 
Hazlitt  thinks  that  he  had  some  place  in  the  Chapel 
Royal,  and  the  conjecture  is  by  no  means  unlikely. 

Whether  or  no  he  held  any  such  position,  he  seems  to 
have  had  at  this  time  or  later  some  connection  with  dis- 
tinguished persons  at  Court,  especially  with  Endymion 
Porter,  groom  of  the  bedchamber  under  Charles  I.  Por- 
ter was  a  patron  of  literature  and  the  arts,  and  Herrick 
always  alludes  to  him  as  to  his  Maecenas.  Other  patrons, 
too,  Herrick  seems  to  have  had ;  for  at  that  time  men  of 
letters  depended  for  support,  not  as  to-day  upon  the  fancy 
of  the  public,  but  upon  the  liberality  of  wealthy  men. 
But  since  we  cannot  be  sure,  as  will  appear  later,  what 
poems  Herrick  wrote  at  just  this  period,  and  since  outside 
evidence  is  lacking,  we  cannot  form  any  very  definite  no- 
tion of  this  time  of  his  life. 

At  court  and  at  the  tavern  Herrick  passed  some  of  his 
time  in  London,  and  probably  did  very  many  interesting 
things  there  and  elsewhere  of  which  we  now  shall  never 
know.  But  he  seems  to  have  sought  an  independence, 
and  to  have  turned  to  the  church.  When  he  was  ordained 
is  not  known,  but  in  1627  he  was  appointed  chaplain  to 
the  fruitless  expedition  to  the  Isle  of  Re,  and  in  1629 
he  was  named  to  the  vicarage  of  Dean  Prior  in  Devon- 
shire.1 

1  Dean  Prior  lies  between  Plymouth  and  Exeter,  nearer  the  for- 
mer, and  some  little  distance  to  the  south  of  Dartmoor  Forest. 


INTRODUCTION.  xv 

We  might  almost  say  that  here  Herrick's  life  begins. 
For  nineteen  years  he  was  Vicar  of  Dean  Prior,  and  in 
those  nineteen  years  he  wrote  many  of  his  poems,  col- 
lected and  corrected  others,  and  at  the  end  of  that  period 
published  the  book  which  has  made  him  immortal.  Of 
the  book  we  shall  speak  later ;  here  we  may  content  our- 
selves with  saying  that  for  his  Devonshire  life  it  is  almost 
our  only  authority.  It  is  certainly  sufficient  authority  for 
practical  purposes.  It  is  true  that  it  is  only  with  the 
greatest  difficulty  that  we  can  screw  out  any  definite  facts,1 
but  it  must  always  be  remembered  that  definite  facts  are 
not  the  things  we  want  most  in  the  case  of  a  poet.  We  know 
that  Herrick  lived  at  his  vicarage  for  nineteen  years  on  a 
stipend  of  ^"50  (equal  to  about  $1250  of  the  present  day), 
and  that  in  1648  he  was  dispossessed  for  Royalist  opin- 
ions. We  know  that  he  had  a  housekeeper  named  Pru- 
dence Baldwin,  a  spaniel  named  Tracy,  and  a  sparrow 
named  Phil,  and,  according  to  tradition,  a  pig  which  he 
taught  to  drink  from  a  silver  tankard,  as  a  type  perhaps 
of  his  consideration  of  his  parishioners.  Further  (again 
following  tradition),  we  know  that  he  sometimes  became 
disgusted  with  his  Devonshire  life,  flung  his  sermons  in 
the  faces  of  his  congregation,  and  went  home  to  write 
rather  nasty  epigrams  upon  them  to  vent  his  wrath.  We 
know,  too,  of  a  number  of  his  friends,  —  Endymion  Porter 
as  before,  Sir  Clipsby  Crewe,  Sir  Edward  Giles,  of  Dean 
Court  near  by,  and  others,  many  of  them  persons  of  con- 
sideration in  their  day. 

But  certainly  such  material  as  we  have  here  is  of  far 
less  interest  than  that  afforded  us  by  even  a  few  of  his 
poems.  His  Winding  Sheet  (517)  and  A  Thanksgiving  to 
God  for  His  House  (N.N.  47)  give  us  more  that  we  really 

1  With  what  difficulty,  the  writer's  Dissertation,  spoken  of  later 
(p.  Ixx),  bears  emphatic  witness. 


xvi  INTRODUCTION. 

want  than  any  number  of  names  and  dates.  A  New 
Year's  Gift  sent  to  Sir  Simeon  Steward  (3 1 9)  or  The  Hock- 
Cart  (250)  reconcile  us  easily  to  a  very  plentiful  lack  of 
definite  facts. 

Herrick  lived  in  Devonshire,  then,  for  nineteen  years, 
at  the  end  of  which  time,  in  1648,  he  was  dispossessed  of 
his  vicarage  by  the  Puritans,  and  presumably  returned  to 
London.  In  London  he  must  at  first  have  busied  him- 
self chiefly  about  publishing  his  poems ;  the  idea  had 
been  long  in  his  mind,  but  never  before  had  he  been  able 
to  put  it  into  effect.  They  were  published  in  rather  a 
thick  and  dumpy  little  quarto  in  the  year  1648,  and  with 
the  publication  Herrick  vanishes  from  us  like  a  lamp  ex- 
tinguished in  darkness.  A  few  rumors  concerning  the 
following  years  are  preserved,  but  none  seem  worthy  of 
restatement  here.  When  the  king  came  to  his  owa  again, 
Herrick  also  returned  to  what  had  been  his  own.  He 
went  back  to  Devonshire  in  1662  as  vicar  of  Dean  Prior, 
where  he  died  in  1674. 

Such,  in  rather  compressed  form,  is  the  story  of  Her- 
rick's  life,  as  far  as  outside  sources  give  it  to  us.  Some 
elaboration  and  conjecture  could  be  added.  Mr.  Hazlitt, 
Dr.  Grosart,  and  Mr.  Pollard,  in  their  editions,  offer  us  a 
good  deal  more  that  is  of  interest  about  Herrick's  family 
and  friends  and  about  Herrick's  literary  activity.  But 
after  all,  the  only  thing  that  makes  Herrick  real  to  us  is 
his  Hesperides,  and  without  that  a  hundred  pages  of  detail 
concerning  friends  and  manuscripts  could  not  interest  us 
in  him.  No  one  will  desire  to  linger  long  over  such  mat- 
ters before  proceeding  to  Herrick's  poetry ;  no  one,  ex- 
cept perhaps  (to  borrow  Swinburne's  excellent  phrase) 
"  the  sturdy  student  who  tackles  his  Herrick  as  a  school- 
boy is  expected  to  tackle  his  Horace  "  (P.  I,  xii),  and  even 


INTRODUCTION.  xvii 

the  sturdy  student  may  not  find  it  amiss  to  proceed  at 
once  ;  his  welfare  is  provided  for  in  foot-notes,  and  his 
wits  will  not  be  allowed  to  rust. 

With  the  exception  of  a  few  poems  found  here  and 
there,  first  collected  by  Hazlitt,1  Herrick's  work  is  all  in- 
cluded in  two  collections,  one  of  poetry  entitled  Hesperi- 
des, and  the  other  of  religious  verse  called  Noble  Num- 
bers.'2' The  two  were  published  in  the  same  book,  though 
the  Noble  Numbers  has  a  separate  title-page,  which  is  dated 
1647,  while  the  Hesperides  title-page  bears  date  1648.  A 
single  glance  at  the  book  is  enough  to  see  that  we  have 
in  it  not  only  most  delightful  poetry,  but  a  most  delight- 
ful poet.  Herrick  takes  at  once  a  personal  aspect. 

On  this  matter  there  is  one  difficulty,  —  a  difficulty  which 
would  hardly  be  worthy  of  note  in  just  this  place3  were  it 
not  that  it  has  led  several  Herrick  lovers  somewhat  astray. 
It  lies  in  the  fact  that  the  poems  of  the  Hesperides  (there 
are  more  than  eleven  hundred  of  them)  are  printed  in 
one  grand  confusion,  to  which  no  one  has  as  yet  suc- 
ceeded in  finding  the  clue.  And  the  consequence  is  that 
in  comparatively  few  cases  can  we  affix  a  date  to  this 
poem  or  that.  This  matter,  which  seems  at  first  a  mere 
scholarly  bother,  is  really  of  some  importance ;  for  the 

1  They  may  be  found  in  G.  or  P.,  and  are  as  follows  :   The  Descrip- 
tion of  a  Woman,  His  Daughter's  Dowry,  His  Farewell  unto  Poetry,  A 
Carol  presented  to  Dr.  Williams,  His  Mistress  to  him  at  his  Fare- 
well, Upon  Parting,  Upon  Master  Fletcher's  Incomparable  Plays,  The 
New  Charon,  and  the  Epitaph  on  the  Tomb  of  Sir  Edward  Giles, — 
this  last,  by  the  way,  first  printed  from  the  church  at  Dean  Prior  by 
Dr.  Grosart. 

2  Speaking  exactly,  the  name  Hesperides  is  given  on  the  title-page 
to  The  Works  both  Human  and  Divine  (see  p.  Ixvi),  but  it  is  more 
commonly  confined  to  the  secular  poems. 

8  To  the  student  it  is  of  course  important.  I  have  thought  it  bet- 
ter to  reserve  any  particular  discussion  of  the  matter  until  later 
(pp.  xlviii-liv). 


xvjji  INTRODUCTION. 

poems  of  the  Hesperides  seem  so  inconsistent  that,  unless 
we  can  form  some  conception  of  different  times  of  com- 
position, they  present  to  us  discordances  which  are  really 
more  ridiculous  than  serious,  but  which  we  should  be  glad 
to  avoid.  For  the  present  it  will  be  enough  to  bear  this 
fact  in  mind,  and  with  such  caution  to  turn  at  once  to  a 
consideration  of  Herrick's  poetry. 


II.     THE   HESPERIDES. 

Best  loved,  I  think,  if  not  best  known  of  all  Herrick's 
poems,  are  such  as  celebrate  the  old-time  customs  of  the 
country  year.  They  are  the  truest  English  pastorals  that 
we  have.  Whether  it  be  but  an  invitation  to  Anthea  to 
the  wake  (763)  or  some  more  formal  praise  of  country 
life  for  Endymion  Porter  (664),  the  atmosphere  is  always 
in  harmony  and  the  touch  is  always  true.1 

From  Yule  around  again  to  Yule,  the  due  celebration 
of  the  country  calendar  was  dear  to  the  poet,  and  we 
feel  that  we  never  touch  his  life  more  surely  than  when 

1  Perhaps  absolute  accuracy  would  compel  us  to  make  exceptions 
of  the  very  few  cases  in  these  poems  where  Herrick  gives  way  to  the 
fashion  of  his  time,  and  writes  of  "enamell'd  meads"  (664)  or 
"damask'd  meadows"  (106).  Such  expressions  are  very  rare  in 
those  poems  of  Herrick  which  seem  inspired  by  the  country.  In 
577  there  are  a  number  and  so  in  some  other  poems,  but  these 
poems  have  not  the  country  atmosphere,  and  there  are  other  rea- 
sons for  supposing  them  to  be  earlier  than  Herrick's  life  in  Devon- 
shire, v.  p.  Hi.  As  to  the  fashion  itself,  it  was  not  uncommon  in 
the  days  of  Charles  I.,  as  one  may  see  by  reading  Carew.  We  may 
even  find  examples  in  Milton's  Arcades  and  Comus.  Nowadays 
such  artificial  imagery  generally  strikes  us  as  in  false  taste.  Tenny- 
son's "  slow  dropping  veils  of  thinnest  lawn  "  in  the  Lotus  Eaters, 
called  forth  some  comment  on  this  very  ground. 


INTRODUCTION.  xix 

we  read  the  verses  thereby  inspired.     "  Sweet  Country 
life,"  he  writes, 

"  to  such  unknown 

Whose  lives  are  others',  not  their  own, 

But  serving  courts  and  cities,  be 

Less  happy,  less  enjoying  thee." 

In  this  poem  to  Endymion  Porter  (664)  thus  so  well 
begun,  he  compresses  the  cheerful  round  of  times  trans- 
shifting  into  a  few  lines. 

"  For  sports,  for  pageantry,  and  plays, 
Thou  hast  thy  eves  and  holidays, 
Thy  wakes,  thy  quintels,  here  thou  hast, 
Thy  Maypoles  too  with  garlands  grac'd, 
Thy  morris-dance,  thy  Whitsun-ale, 
Thy  shearing-feast,  which  never  fail, 
Thy  harvest  home,  thy  wassail  bowl,    « 
That's  toss'd  up  after  fox-i'-th'-hole, 
Thy  mummeries,  thy  Twelf-tide  kings 
And  queens,  thy  Christmas  revellings — "* 

These  lines  might  almost  serve  us  as  a  list  of  Herrick's 
country  poems,  for  wake,  quintel,  and  maypole,  wassail 
bowl  and  harvest  home,  Christmas  and  Twelfthtide  revel- 
lings,  each  called  forth  a  special  verse,  and  some  more 
than  one.  The  succession  of  Christmas  holly,  box  at 
Candlemas,  Easter  yew  and  Whitsun  birch,  was  sung  by 
him.  The  horses  of  the  hock-cart,  decked  with  white 
linen  and  crowned  with  garlands  of  oak-leaves,  were 
objects  of  his  care.  He  sees  to  it  that  future  ages  shall 
understand  the  true  ingredients  of  the  wassail  bowl,  nor 
was  he  above  immortalizing  those  potent  charms  which 

1  The  best  illustrations  of  these  poems  of  Herrick's  are  to  be 
found  in  Brand,  Popular  Antiquities  (ed.  Ellis.,  3  vols.,  London, 
1846),  often  quoted  in  the  Notes.  Herrick  did  Brand  good  service 
in  illustrating  the  country  customs  of  England,  and  now  the  debt  is 
well  repaid  by  the  wealth  of  illustration  that  Brand  affords  Herrick. 


xx  INTRODUCTION. 

prevent  the  night-hag's   entangling  the  horses'  tails,  or 
enable  the  maids  the  more  easily  to  light  the  fire. 

In  the  longer  eclogues  there  is  sometimes  a  touch  of 
Horace.1  When  he  compares  his  brother's  happy  lot 
with  that  of  the  industrious  merchant 

"  who  for  to  find 
bold  runneth  to  the  Western.  Inde," 

we  have  a  dim  recollection  of  the  Odes.2 

But  Herrick's  love  for  the  country  went  far  deeper  than 
mere  elegant  classicism.  To  Endymion  Porter  (664)  he 

writes  : 

"Yet  thou  dost  know 
That  the  best  compost  for  the  lands 
Is  the  wise  master's  feet  and  hands." 

This  is  an  old  English  proverb  and  rings  as  true  as 
"The  smell  of  morning's  milk  and  cream  "  (375). 

Whoever  will  read  Herrick's  reminiscences  of  Mar- 
lowe's "Come  live  with  me"  (To  Phillis,  523)  will  see 
how  much  more  substantial  were  the  delights  offered  by 
the  later  poet,  —  more  substantial,  and,  we  may  add,  more 
of  them. 

English  Pastorals  may  these  poems  be  called,  and  that 
in  the  truest  sense  of  the  word.  But  it  is  not  to  be 
thought  that  Herrick,  trained  in  the  atmosphere  of  the 

1  The  best  authority  in  the  matter  of  Herrick's  indebtedness  to 
the  classics  is  A.  W.  Pollard,  whose  edition  of  Herrick  is  full  of  the 
most  interesting  comparisons  with  passages  from  Latin  and  Greek. 
Mr.  Pollard  provides  much,  but  he  has  evidently  more  of  the  same 
kind  in  reserve,  and  it  is  rather  tantalizing  that  the  limits  of  his 
edition   did  not  allow  him  to  be  as  detailed  in  his  illustration  as 
would  apparently  have  been  easy  for  him.     On  this  poem  see  his 
edition,  I,  267. 

2  Made  more  definite,  the  recollection  would  perhaps  be  of  Od.  I, 
i,  17.     Compare  also  the  following  lines  of  the  poem  (106). 


INTRODUCTION.  xxi 

Universities,  and  in  the  somewhat  conventional  school  of 
the  Elizabethan  lyrists,  would  not  have  conceived  of  other 
pastorals,  less  homely  in  character,  and  less  genuine  in 
their  ring.  Even  in  the  truer  sort  there  is  not  wanting 
some  mention  of  Phyllis  and  Themilis.  So  there  are 
others,  too,  less  redolent  of  the  harvest  fields  of  Devon- 
shire, which  celebrate  the  shepherds  and  shepherdesses 
of  that  vaguely  mythic  Arcadia  which  has  been  in  all 
literary  periods  a  favorite  wandering-place  for  poetic 
fancies.  Shortly  after  his  coming  into  Devonshire,  Her- 
rick  celebrated  the  birth  of  Prince  Charles  in  a  Pas- 
toral (213;  cf.  the  note),  which  was  set  by  Mr.  Nic : 
Laniere,  and  presented  to  the  king.  The  speakers  are 
Mirtillo,  Amintas,  and  Amarillis,  who  bear  a  garland,  an 
oaten  pipe,  and  a  sheephook,  as  gifts  to  the  infant  prince. 
In  another  Pastoral  (422)  sung  before  the  king,  Mirtillo 
bewails  the  loss  of  Amarillis  to  the  sympathetic  consola- 
tion of  Montano  and  Silvio,  his  companions.  In  another, 
A  Bucolic;  or  Discourse  of  Neat-herds  (718),  two  rival 
swains  contend  in  song  and  with  the  pipe,  while  Lalage 
listens  to  adjudge  the  victory.  And  in  another  Bucolic 
(986)  Lacon  endeavors  with  but  ill  success  to  console 
Thyrsis  for  the  loss  of  a  lovely  steer,  bitten  and  killed  by 
a  mad  dog.  Conventional  these  pastorals  certainly  are 
and  largely  lacking  in  the  qualities  which  make  the  others 
delightful.  But  because  they  were  written  by  Herrick 
they  have  a  certain  charm  and  a  naturalness,  which 
makes  them  by  no  means  uninteresting.  The  local  color, 
at  least,  is  generally  true,  and  had  we  no  other  pastorals 
of  the  more  truly  country  quality,  we  might  well  be  half- 
satisfied  with  these. 

As  every  one  knows  Herrick  as  the  poet  of  old-time 
custom  and  tradition,  so  also  are  we  apt  to  think  of  him 
as  the  poet  of  revelry  and  good-companionship.  Perhaps 


xxii  INTRODUCTION. 

as  well  known  as  any  of  the  poet's  presumed  characteris- 
tics is  a  cheerfully  bacchanalian  tendency.  "To  Live 
Merrily  and  to  trust  to  Good  Verses  "  is,  in  many  minds, 
the  motto  of  the  poet's  life.  Not  wholly  consistent  with 
the  gravity  of  the  priestly  character,  the  delight  in  con- 
viviality is  looked  on  with  kindly  indulgence  by  the  poet's 
admirers,  and  taken  to  be  a  minor  failing  that  we  can 
very  well  excuse.  Now  it  is  quite  true  that  the  general 
tone  of  Herrick's  work  is  cheerful ;  true  also  that  some 
of  his  poems  are  distinctly  bacchanalian.  A  Lyric  to 
Mirth  (in)  is  characteristic.  So  also  The  Welcome  to 
Sack  (197),  and  The  Farewell  (128),  and  A  Bacchanalian 
Verse  (655).  But  most  of  these,  I  incline  to  think,  must 
have  been  the  product  of  his  London  life,  or  of  his  years 
in  Cambridge.  Not  that  our  poet,  when  he  left  the  de- 
lights of  London  life  for  Devonshire,  lost  all  desire  or 
liking  for  the  pleasures  of  conviviality.  He  was  doubt- 
less as  good  a  companion  as  ever.  But  there  is  nothing 
to  show  that  he  was  more  devoted  to  conviviality  than 
would  be  proper  enough  even  in  a  clergyman  of  to-day, 
let  alone  one  in  his  own  freer  time.  He  still  wrote  an 
ode  to  Bacchus  now  and  then,  or  in  his  poems  raised  the 
thyrse,  but  on  the  whole  he  must  have  taken  more  delight 
in  the  simple  country  pleasures  which  had  then,  perhaps, 
all  the  charm  for  him  of  novelty.  It  is  more  reasonable 
and  agrees  better  with  such  little  evidence  as  we  possess 
to  think  of  Herrick's  real  excesses  as  past  and  gone  with 
his  younger  days,  when  he  was,  perhaps,  one  of  those 
sealed  of  the  Tribe  of  Ben,  and  made  one  of  the  com- 
pany at  "  those  lyric  feasts,  made  at  the  Sun,  the  Dog, 
the  Triple  Tun."  r 

1  Such  also  was  the  opinion  of  Dr.  Grosart,  but  on  grounds  which 
appear  to  me  insufficient.  Dr.  Grosart  seems  to  assume  (I,  Ixxi, 
clxxi)  that  it  would  have  been  more  natural  if  such  poems  of  revelry 


INTRODUCTION. 


But  if  the  poet  paid  further  rites  to  Bacchus  only  in 
form,  to  Venus  he  was  perhaps  more  faithful.  Of  all 
Herrick's  many  charming  verses,  few  are  more  charming 
than  the  best  of  the  multitude  written  to  his  "  many 
dainty  mistresses."  Many  indeed  they  were  (if  they 
were  at  all)  ;  the  list  is  a  long  one,  beginning  with  the 
immortal  Julia  and  coming  down  to  vague  Irenes  and 
Myrrhas.  And  very  charming  are  they  too,  Anthea, 
Perilla,  Corinna,  and  many  others.  But  none  is  more 
than  an  alluring  figure  half  remembered  from  the  glimpses 
of  a  dream.  It  is  as  though  we  really  wandered  in  that 
beautiful  western  garden  where  the  golden  apples  hung, 
and  saw  the  wood-nymphs  here  and  there  among  the 
trees,  beautiful  but  shy.  Julia  alone  stays  to  be  seen.1 

had  been  written  before  Herrick  entered  the  ministry  of  the  Gospel, 
and  then  chides  Mr.  Edmund  Gosse  (I,  cxciii)  for  having  allowed 
himself  to  be  deceived  by  the  minglement  of  earlier  and  later  poems 
in  the  Hesperides.  My  own  grounds  for  believing  most  of  these  out- 
and-out  bacchanalian  poems  to  be  early  are  somewhat  different,  and 
cannot  very  well  be  rehearsed  here  (Diss.,  §§  6-9,  especially  pp.  37, 
49,  50).  In  the  place  cited  I  tried  to  date  certain  poems  by  reference 
to  external  facts,  by  metrical  peculiarities,  and  by  some  other  consid- 
erations, and  finding  among  the  poems,  which  for  such  reasons  could 
be  placed  before  1629,  a  certain  similarity  not  found  in  those  which 
came  later,  I  added  to  them  some  other  poems  which  I  could  not 
otherwise  date.  By  such  means  I  found  that  most  of  the  poems 
in  which  the  convivial  note  is  most  loud  were  to  be  judged  early, 
and  as  this  result  agreed  with  what  would  otherwise  have  seemed 
natural,  as  well  as  with  the  tone  of  the  Farewell  to  Poetry,  I  arrived 
at  the  opinion  expressed  above. 

1  Mr.  Edmund  Gosse  (Seventeenth  Century  Studies,  p.  123)  thinks 
that  Julia  was  actually  Herrick's  mistress,  that  she  bore  him  a 
daughter,  and  that  she  "  died  or  passed  away  before  Herrick  left 
Cambridge."  As  to  the  last  point  there  is  not  much  ground  for 
argument.  But  I  must  confess  that  His  Daughter's  Dowry  does 
not  seem  to  me  any  more  reason  for  giving  the  poet  a  daughter 
than  is  His  Age,  333  (stanzas  12,  15,  16),  for  providing  him  with  a  son. 
Both  son  and  daughter  are,  to  my  mind,  most  likely  imaginary. 


xxiv  INTRODUCTION. 

Of  Julia  we  may  form  some  notion  if  we  like,  for  Her- 
rick  loved  to  write  of  her.  He  celebrates  her  petticoat 
pounced  with  stars,  her  hair  bundled  up  in  a  golden  net, 
her  glittering  silks  shot  with  silver,  her  curious  laces,  and 
her  lawny  ferns,  the  soft  perfumes  that  accompanied  her. 
We  may  even  imagine  her  beauty,  or,  at  least,  the  poet  is 
willing  to  help  us  out : 

342.   "UPON  HIS  JULIA. 

Will  ye  heare,  what  I  can  say 
Briefly  of  my  Julia? 
Black  and  rowling  is  her  eye, 
Double  chinn'd,  and  forehead  high  : 
Lips  she  has,  all  ruby  red, 
Cheeks  like  creame  enclareted  : 
And  a  nose  that  is  the  grace 
And  proscenium  of  her  face. 
So  that  we  may  guess  by  these, 
The  other  parts  will  richly  please." 

He  writes  of  gifts  that  passed  between  them,  a  ring 
or  a  pomander  bracelet,  of  Julia's  illness  and  recovery, 
of  his  absence  from  her.  Julia  he  connects  with  his 
curious  mythical  imaginings,  with  his  glowing  zeal  for 
that  strange  cult  of  his,  concerning  which  there  is  more 
to  be  said  later.  And  Julia  is  the  object  of  endless  little 
poems  embodying  numberless  lover's  conceits  as  to  her 
pearly  teeth,  her  ruby  lips,  her  delicate  skin,  her  sweet 
breath,  and  what  not. 

As  to  whether  there  ever  was  a  Julia  one  may  believe 
pretty  much  as  one  desires.  We  can  learn  but  little  from 
the  poems.  It  is  more  than  probable  that  Herrick  at 
one  time  and  another  in  his  life  felt  the  scourge  of 
Venus,  and  more  than  probable  too  is  it  that  the  object 
of  his  devotion  inspired  him  to  verse.  So  far  one  can  go 
with  the  utmost  safety.  But  to  assume  that  all  the  poems 


INTRODUCTION.  XXv 

to  Julia  represent  actualities,  to  assume  even  that  they  are 
all  addressed  to  the  same  real  person  or  to  any  real  per- 
son at  all,  and  then  to  seek  to  reconstruct  the  old  and 
long-lost  fact  from  its  ashes,  all  this  is  beyond  the  func- 
tion of  criticism  or  beyond  its  power.  It  seems  uncritical 
to  imagine  that  the  Julia  to  whom  the  three-score  and 
odd  poems  were  addressed  had  no  real  prototype.  But 
it  is  equally  uncritical  to  imagine  that  all  the  poems  in 
question  were  addressed  to  one  and  the  same  real  per- 
son. We  can  put  our  finger  here  and  there  on  certain 
of  the  poems  to  Julia,  to  Anthea,  to  Electra,  and  say 
with  certainty,  "This  was  a  real  woman."  But  farther 
we  cannot  go  save  in  fancy. 

And  as  food  for  fancy,  these  poems  provide  us  with 
much  that  is  of  Herrick's  best.  The  Nightpiece  to  Julia 
(621)  and  the  lines  To  Anthea  (267)  are  among  the  most 
often  quoted  of  the  poet's  work.  Only  less  fine  and 
exquisite  are  the  serious  lines  To  Perilla  (14),  the  looked- 
for  farewell  To  his  Lovely  Mistresses  (636),  and  the  fine 
morning  song,  Corinna's  going  a- Maying  (178).  To  tell 
the  truth,  little  is  gained  (save  scientific  accuracy)  by 
knowing  whether  there  were  real  Julias  and  Antheas  or 
not.  Indeed,  curiosity  in  such  matters  is  rather  apt  to 
blind  us  to  the  poetry  in  our  search  for  the  reality.  One 
gains  the  true  pleasure  from  them  without  bother  as  to 
whether  there  ever  were  or  were  not  some  one  whom  the 
poet  loved,  and  loved  to  think  of  as  Julia,  or  Anthea,  or 
Perilla.  No  footnote  "  This  is  a  fact "  is  needed. 

But  whether  there  were  or  were  not  those  to  whom 
these  many  poems  were  written,  no  such  doubt  attaches 
to  another  set  of  poems,  numerous  though  hardly  so  in- 
teresting, namely,  those  written  by  Herrick  to  his  friends. 
These  were  the  poems  which,  so  Grosart  thinks,  were 
designed  by  the  poet  for  a  special  collection  for  his 


INTRODUCTION. 


Book  of  the  Just  (Wks.  I,  cxiv-cxx,  cxxii).  I  have  already 
tried,  elsewhere,  to  show  that  there  is  no  evidence  to 
convince  us  that  Herrick  ever  designed  any  collection 
of  this  sort.  But  though  no  formal  collection  was  ever 
planned,  it  is  hardly  to  be  doubted  that  Herrick  often 
thought  with  pleasure  of  the  circle  of  his  friends  and 
of  the  poems  he  had  written  to  celebrate  their  glories. 
And  a  very  gracious  and  interesting  collection  is  thus 
made.  Although  the  poems  themselves  are,  as  a  whole, 
far  inferior  to  those  of  which  we  have  just  spoken,  yet 
they  have  a  human  interest  that  makes  them  fascinating. 
A  recent  article  1  discusses  many  of  those  to  whom  these 
poems  were  written,  and  we  shall  have  merely  to  call 
attention  in  the  notes  to  the  chief  matters  of  interest. 

If  there  be  one  thing  noticeable  in  these  poems,  and 
one  thing  interesting,  it  is  the  poet's  estimate  of  himself 
and  of  his  verse.  Horatian  here,  as  in  many  other 
respects,2  the  poet  felt  a  pleasant  satisfaction  in  thinking 
that  those  whom  he  chose  for  friends,  received  by  virtue 
of  that  choice  a  brevet  for  immortality.  He  may  often 

1  By  A.  W.  Pollard,  Macmillatt's  Magazine,  LXVII,  142. 

2  That  Herrick  resembled  Horace  in  some  ways,  if  not  in  others, 
needs  very  little  illustration.     His   editors   have  pointed   out    the 
resemblance  of  his  poetic  quality  to  Martial  and  Catullus.     As  far 
as  the  formal  qualities  of  their  poetry  are  concerned,  Horace  and 
Herrick  have  not  much  in  common;  but  in  spirit  they  have  a  great 
deal.     How  much  of  the  similarity  we  may  set  down  to  conscious 
imitation  on  the  part  of  the  younger  poet  may  be  a  matter  of  ques- 
tion, although  I  am  inclined  to  think  but  little.     When  we  say  Her- 
rick's  temper  was  Horatian,  we  mean  that  he  loved  a  simple  country 
life  better  than  a  more  formal  courtly  existence,  that  he  was  devoted 
to  many  lovely  mistresses  and  to  many  friends  and  patrons,  that  he 
looked  forward   to  death  with  melancholy  certainty,   but    that  he 
firmly  trusted  to  the  excellence  of  his  work  to  give  him  immortality. 
Each  poet  had  much  that  the  other  lacked,  but  there  was  much  also 
in  common. 


INTRODUCTION.  xxvii 

have  felt,  too,  when  with  those  who  were  richer  or  of 
nobler  birth  than  himself,  with  those  who  were  in  those 
days  his  patrons,  that  the  time  would  come  when  the 
balance  would  hang  the  other  way  and  he  should  be  able 
to  return  with  splendid  interest  the  favors  received  in 
this  world. 

Mingled  with  such  a  feeling  was,  for  a  time  at  least, 
the  more  or  less  frank  imitation  of  Ben  Jonson  and  the 
tradition  of  the  Tribe  of  Ben.  But  this  the  difference 
in  circumstances  made  less  important.  For  Herrick 
in  his  best  days  was  not  a  great  poet  surrounded  by 
lesser  lights,  but  rather  a  poet  who  lived  by  himself, 
whose  friends  were  rather  men  of  the  world  than  men  of 
letters.  Now  and  then  he  speaks  of  his  "righteous 
Tribe,"  but  the  expression  is  clearly  but  a  reminiscence 
of  the  days  of  the  Devil  Tavern.  The  chief  thought  was 
that  of  his  chosen  friends  his  genius  made  a  group,  a 
gathering,  which  after-ages  would  gladly  know  and  hold  in 
mind,  and  this  fancy  of  his  expressed  itself  in  varying  poetic 
forms.  Sometimes  the  circle  of  his  friends  is  a  City  set 
with  Heroes,  sometimes  a  Calendar  of  rare  Saintships, 
sometimes  a  Gem  in  an  eternal  Coronet.  Sometimes 
they  form  his  righteous  Tribe,  sometimes  he  thinks  of 
them  as  Stars  in  a  Poetic  Firmament.  Or  they  are  a 
Plantation  or  a  College.  His  poems,  written  for  them, 
he  calls  a  Poetic  Liturgy  or  a  Testament.1  And  for  this 
Liturgy,  this  Testament,  he  has  naturally  an  affectionate 
feeling,  indeed  for  all  his  verses  and  for  his  book.  Not 
every  day,  nor  time  of  day,  was  fit  to  write,  nor  was  every 
day  fit  to  read.  The  good  spirit  must  be  present  or  the 
poet's  effort  was  vain.  And  the  reader,  too,  must  be 
well  tempered  and  attuned  to  the  poet's  work.  As  was 

1  For  some  discussion  of  this  question,  v.  G.,  I,  cxviii;  P.,  I,  314, 
and  Diss.,  pp.  12-15. 


xxviii  INTRODUCTION. 

more  customary  then  than  nowadays,  his  verses  got  abroad, 
were  copied  and  passed  from  hand  to  hand ;  some  were 
published  in  a  more  or  less  fragmentary  form.  And  so 
he  gathered  them  together  for  publishing  and  prepared 
to  send  them  forth  into  the  world.  He  looked  upon  his 
collection  as  one  would  look  upon  a  favorite  child  about 
to  start  out  in  the  world  to  make  his  fortune.  He  hopes 
that  there  will  be  such  as  will  be  kind  to  it,  and  bespeaks 
the  patronage  of  his  friends  and  of  other  souls  akin  to 
his.  So  also  does  he  somewhat  fear  an  evil  reception  at 
the  hands  of  the  ill-disposed,  and  against  this  he  steels 
his  heart  and  calls  down  various  evils  on  the  unappreci- 
ative. 

6.   "TO  THE  SOUR  READER. 

If  thou  dislik'st  the  piece  thou  light'st  on  first, 
,       Think  that  of  all,  that  I  have  writ,  the  worst: 
But  if  thou  read'st  my  Book  unto  the  end, 
And  still  dost  this,  and  that  verse,  reprehend, 
O  perverse  man  !     If  all  disgustful  be, 
The  extreme  scab  take  thee  and  thine  for  me." 

Even  a  worse  lot  is  not  absent  from  his  mind.  Books 
come  to  other  uses  than  merely  to  be  read,  and  so  may 
his.  He  sometimes  conjures  up  sad  pictures  (846,  962, 
1127),  the  fire,  the  grocer's  shop,  the  careless  reader. 

In  general,  however,  Herrick  trusted  to  his  verse  to 
find  a  good  reception,  and  believed  that  his  book  could 
take  care  of  itself,  and  not  only  of  itself  but  of  its  maker 
as  well.  Not  only  should  his  friends  have  immortality, 
but  far  more  would  he  himself  remain  in  the  minds  of 
men,  his  name  engraven  on  a  pillar  more  enduring  than 
many  of  those  set  up  for  such  as  in  their  day  had  had 
much  greater  fame  than  his.1 

1  It  is  worth  noting  as  characteristic  of  the  poetry  of  the  time, 
poetry  largely  marked  by  fashion  and  by  fancy,  that  the  last  poem 


INTR  OD  UC  TION.  xxix 

These  poems  border  closely  upon  the  autobiographical. 
Nor  are  there  lacking  many  more  strictly  of  such  a  char- 
acter. More  even  than  most  lyric  poets  does  Herrick 
take  his  readers  into  his  confidence,  or  perhaps  we  ought 
to  say  that  in  minor  matters  he  is  more  garrulous  and 
confidential.  We  have  many  poems  in  which  he  cele- 
brates the  circumstances  of  his  domestic  life.  Mostly 
do  these  seem  to  be  poems  of  Devonshire ;  they  give  us 
the  life  of  the  vicar,  rather  than  the  student's  life,  or  the 
young  poet's  in  London.  We  hear  much  of  his  content 
in  the  country  and  of  his  grange  or  private  wealth.  He 
lived,  as  has  already  been  said,  with  Prudence  Baldwin, 
his  housekeeper,  with  Tracy,  his  spaniel,  Phil,  the  sparrow, 
with  the  goose  and  the  killing,  and,  if  tradition  tells 
aright,  with  that  convivial  pig,  whose  name  is  unknown 
and  whom  the  poet  seemed  to  think  unworthy  of  immor- 
tality. 

In  his  parsonage  in  Devonshire,  Herrick  lived  a  pleas- 
ant, peaceful  life,  —  a  life  which  he  heartily  enjoyed 
despite  the  recurrence  now  and  then  of  the  reminiscence 
of  wilder  days  of  unrestrained  mirth.  The  simple  things 
of  the  country  were  a  great  delight  to  him  and  he  heartily 
loved  the  old-fashioned  country  ways.  Still  it  cannot  be 
denied  that  at  times  he  hated  Devonshire  with  a  fierce 
and  bitter  hatred.  There  is  no  doubtful  sound  in  some 
half  a  dozen  poems.1 

in  the  Hesperides,  the  poem  in  which  Herrick  expresses  the  idea  just 
mentioned,  is  written  in  the  actual  form  of  a  pillar.  So  one  of  the 
last  poems  in  the  Noble  Numbers  is  in  the  form  of  a  cross.  Readers 
of  contemporary  poetry  will  not  be  at  a  loss  for  illustrations.  We 
may  note  particularly  Easter  Wings  and  The  Altar,  by  George  Her- 
bert, as  examples  of  the  same  fashion  influencing  a  mind  of  very 
different  character. 

1  51,  86,  278,  458,  715. 


xxx  INTRODUCTION. 

458.   "UPON  HIMSELF. 

Come  leave  this  loathed  country-life,  and  then 

Grow  up  to  be  a  Roman  Citizen. 

Those  mites  of  time,  which  yet  remain  unspent, 

Waste  thou  in  that  most  civil  government. 

Get  their  comportment,  and  the  gliding  tongue 

Of  those  mild  men,  thou  art  to  live  among: 

Then  being  seated  in  that  smoother  Sphere 

Decree  thy  everlasting  topic  there. 

And  to  the  farm-house  ne'er  return  at  all, 

Though  granges  do  not  love  thee,  cities  shall." 

And  in  another  poem,  written  it  may  be  on  his  final 
return  to  London,  we  have  the  same  thought : 

715.   "HIS  RETURN  TO  LONDON. 

From  the  dull  confines  of  the  drooping  West, 

To  see  the  day  spring  from  the  pregnant  East, 

Ravish'd  in  spirit,  I  come  .  .  . 

...  I  am  a  free-born  Roman  ;  suffer  then, 

That  I  amongst  you  live  a  citizen. 

London  my  home  is,  though  by  hard  fate  sent 

Into  a  long  and  irksome  banishment ; 

Yet  since  call'd  back,  henceforward  let  me  be, 

O  native  country,  repossess'd  by  thee ! 

For,  rather  than  I'll  to  the  West  return, 

I'll  beg  of  thee  first  here  to  have  mine  urn. 

Weak  I  am  grown,  and  must  in  short  time  fall, 

Give  thou  my  sacred  reliques  burial." 

Rather  more  importance  than  they  deserve  has  been 
given  to  such  poems,  or  rather,  no  effort  has  been  made 
to  reconcile  them  with  those  which  express  feelings  quite 
the  reverse.  It  may  be  that  no  explanation  is  necessary, 
and  yet  a  word  or  two  will  not  be  out  of  place.  Such 
differences  of  feeling  may  be  thought  of  in  several  ways. 
It  is  not  impossible  that  the  poems  expressing  delight  in 
the  country  were  all  written  in  the  earlier  years  of  his 


INTRODUCTION.  xxxi 

life  in  Devonshire  and  the  others  in  later  years.  We 
may  hold  that  the  poet  was  at  first  charmed,  but  that  in 
time  he  became  weary.  Or  precisely  the  contrary  may 
have  been  the  case.  He  may  at  first  have  been  con- 
stantly longing  to  return  to  London,  but  on  a  longer  stay 
and  a  truer  sympathy  he  may  have  given  up  his  earlier 
hatred  and  become  filled  with  a  feeling  quite  the  reverse. 
Or,  again,  it  is  perfectly  comprehensible  that  both  series 
of  poems  should  have  been  the  fruit  of  the  same  series  of 
years.  A  man  of  moods  will  think  his  surroundings  first 
detestable  and  then  delightful,  or  vice  versa,  not  only  in 
the  course  of  a  single  year,  but  in  the  course  of  a  single 
day.  We  must  remember  that  these  poems  of  Herrick 
are  not  necessarily  the  record  of  continued  thought  or 
feeling.  A  single  half-hour  of  despondency  may  have 
stamped  itself  into  eternity  by  a  fortunate  verse,  and  so 
outweigh  months  of  less  expressive  pleasure.  Some  such 
view  as  this  last  seems,  on  the  whole,  most  comprehen- 
sible. Herrick  sometimes  hated  Devonshire,  sometimes 
loved  it.  We  might  think  that  it  depended  on  the 
weather,  were  it  not  that  the  poems  which  express  dis- 
gust are  far  fewer  than  we  should  then  imagine. 

So  we  must  not  allow  these  examples  of  impatience,  or 
of  a  temper  colored  by  the  blues,  to  do  more  than  modify 
our  notion  of  Herrick's  attachment  to  the  country.  The 
instances  of  his  thorough  delight  and  appreciation  are 
far  too  many.  He  was  evidently  delighted  in  the  sights 
and  sounds  of  country  life,  in  its  sport  and  in  its  labor, 
in  all  the  great  things  and  little  which  went  to  make  up 
the  daily  round. 

Mr.  Gosse  has  noticed  that  Herrick's  pleasure  in  coun- 
try scenery  is  almost  entirely  of  the  domestic  sort.  To 
tell  the  truth,  we  should  hardly  expect  to  find  in  Her- 
rick's day  and  generation  the  same  pleasure  in  the  wild- 


xxxii  INTRODUCTION. 

ness  and  ruggedness  of  natural  scenery  that  exists  in 
ours.  The  most  beautiful  country  sight  to  Herrick, 
whether  in  Devonshire  or  elsewhere,  lay  in  the  country 
flowers.  Perhaps  he  had  a  garden  of  his  own.  But  we 
never  hear  anything  of  his  cultivating  it,  and  it  may  well 
be  fancied  that  the  poet  was  wise  enough  to  know  that 
for  one  who  loves  flowers  in  a  poetical  way  only,  a  friend's 
garden  is  as  good  as  one's  own  and  oftentimes  better. 

In  his  earlier  days,  it  may  have  been  that  Herrick 
loved  to  imagine  how 

"  All  the  shrubs,  with  sparkling  spangles,  show 
Like  morning  sun-shine  tinselling  the  dew. 
Here,  in  green  meadowes,  sits  eternall  May, 
Purfling  the  margents,  while  perpetual  day 
So  double  gilds  the  air,  as  that  no  night 
Can  ever  rust  th'  enamel  of  the  light."  l 

And  in  such  a  time  and  temper  it  was  enough,  we 
may  think,  to  have  the  conventional  wreaths  of  roses  and 
myrtles  and  lilies,  or  the  crowns  of  ivy  and  laurel  and 
bays.  But  in  after  years,  I  take  it,  his  affections  grew, 
and  in  the  garden  of  his  thoughts,  at  least,  he  had  great 
luxuriance.  The  primrose  ("  the  sweet  Infanta  of  the 
year "),  the  gilliflower  (does  he  call  it  July  flower  in 
jest?)  and  the  marigold  he  had,  and  a  many  others  too, 
wall-flowers  and  daffodils,  rosemary  and  rue,  pansies 
and  pinks,  tulips  and  hyacinths,  violets  and  daisies,  jessa- 
mine and  cowslips,  eglantine  and  honeysuckle  and  sweet- 
briar  and  woodbine.  A  stretch  of  the  imagination  was 
it,  perhaps,  when  he  would  have  orange  flowers  and 
almond  blossoms  for  Lady  Abdie  (375). 

A  favorite  fancy  with  Herrick  was  of  a  sort  of  evolu- 
tion more  poetical  in  a  sense  than  that  of  Darwin,  though 

1  The  Apparition  of  his  Mistress  (577). 


INTRODUCTION.  xxxiii 

not  so  well  substantiated  by  the  order  of  the  universe. 
He  writes : 

505.   "HOW   MARIGOLDS  CAME  YELLOW. 

Jealous  girls  these  sometimes  were, 
While  they  liv'd,  or  lasted  here : 
Turn'd  to  flowers  still  they  be 
Yellow  mark'd  for  jealousy." 

So  also  he  tells  us  how  roses  first  came  red  (where  he 
offers  two  hypotheses)  and  lilies  white.  So  also  can  he 
tell  us  of  the  wall-flower,  how  it  came  first  and  why  it  had 
its  name.  He  found  out  how  violets  came  blue  and 
primroses  green :  he  even  formulates  a  theory  of  Why 
Flowers  change  Color  (37).  So  far  did  his  love  of  science 
carry  him.  In  general,  however,  he  was  well  content  to 
enjoy  the  flowers'  loveliness  without  care  for  their  origin. 

And  not  only  in  their  beauty  but  in  their  fragrance. 
Herrick,  in  common  with  many  other  poets,  took  a  keen 
delight  in  the  beautiful  things  that  appeal  to  the  senses. 
But  though  many  other  poets  have  enjoyed  such  things 
as  please  the  eye  and  the  ear,  and  even  the  touch,  Her- 
rick stands  almost  alone  among  the  poets  in  his  leaning 
to  the  delights  of  perfume.  In  this  characteristic  he 
resembled  Mahomet.  Like  the  gardens  of  paradise,  Her- 
rick's  Hespcrides  is  pervaded  by  the  odor  of  burning  in- 
cense and  fragrant  gums.  Between  the  trees  and  under 
the  golden  apples  passes  the  beautiful  Julia,  dispensing 
aromatics  from  her  rustling  silks. 

"  How  can  I  choose  but  love  and  follow  her 
Whose  shadow  smells  like  milder  pomander! 
How  can  I  choose  but  kisse  her,  whence  does  come 
The  storax,  spikenard,  myrrh,  and  ladanum."    (487.) 

A  pomander,  by  the  way,  was  a  mixture  of  perfume 
carried  in  a  silver  ball :  Julia,  who  was,  doubtless,  well 


xxxiv  INTRODUCTION. 

aware  of  her  poet's  fancies,  sent  Herrick  a  pomander 
bracelet.  The  right  pomander,  it  appears,  was  made  of 
labdanum,  benzoin,  both  storaxes,  ambergris,  civet,  and 
musk.  For  civet  Herrick  seems  to  have  had  no  especial 
affection,  and  for  aught  we  know  he  was  acquainted  with 
one  kind  of  storax  only.  But  in  the  other  ingredients 
mentioned  he  delighted,  as  also  in  balm  ("  the  Arabian 
dew"  he  calls  it),  galbanum,  cassia,  frankincense  and 
myrrh.  His  imagination  went  back  to  the  costly  spike- 
nard of  ancient  days,  and  he  loved  to  chafe  a  bit  of 
amber  until  it  gave  forth  its  warm  fragrance.  In  fact, 
Herrick  was  clearly  an  amateur  in  perfumes.  But  not 
only  the  perfumes  of  commerce  were  his  joy,  amber- 
gris from  the  West  Indies  and  gums  from  the  East,  but 
everywhere  about  him  in  the  country  did  he  revel  in  all 
the  many  opportunities  given  by  flower  and  fruit.  Most 
fragrant  of  all  his  poems  are  the  lines  To  the  Most  Fair 
and  Lovely  Mistress  Anne  Soame  (375),  which  are  heavy 
with  essence  of  jessamine,  with  orange-flowers  and  al- 
mond-blossoms, not  forgetting,  on  the  one  hand,  the 
amber  bracelet  and  the  maiden  pomander,  or,  on  the 
other,  "  the  smell  of  morning's  milk  and  cream,"  or  "  of 
roasted  warden  or  baked  pear." 1  Nor  was  he  uncon- 
scious of  his  peculiar  sensibility,  as  witness  the  lines  in 
98,  Being  once  Blind,  his  Request  to  Biancha  : 

1  The  argument  that  Herrick  cared  for  perfumes  is  of  course 
based  largely  on  the  frequency  with  which  he  mentions  them. 
Compare  the  Hesperides  with  all  Shakespeare's  plays,  for  instance. 
Further  it  may  be  held  that  although  reference  to  the  more  com- 
monly known  perfumes  argues  but  little  (for  such  allusion  might 
readily  be  conventional),  yet  the  noticing  such  odors  as,  for  ex- 
ample, in  the  last  half  of  the  verses  to  Lady  Abdie,  shows  that 
the  sense  of  smell  was  far  more  developed  with  him  than  with  most 
men.  The  goddess  Isis,  who  at  one  time  absorbed  some  of  his 
attention,  appears  to  have  been  especially  fascinating  through  her 
fragrance  (cf.  note  to  197). 


INTRODUCTION.  xxxv 

"  Go  then  afore,  and  I  shall  well 
Follow  thy  perfumes  by  the  smell." 

His  love  for  perfumes  was  greater  than  his  love  for 
music,  and  yet  there  are  not  a  few  little  poems  scattered 
here  and  there  which  show  that  the  poet  was  at  least  not 
unacquainted  with  musical  pleasures.  He  seems  to  have 
known  the  best  composers  of  the  day,  either  personally 
or  by  reputation.  His  songs  were  set  by  Henry  Lawes 
and  by  Ramsey,  and  he  refers  to  William  Lawes,  Dr. 
Wilson,  Lanier,  and  Gouter.  And  whatever  knowledge 
of  music  or  feeling  for  it  he  might  have  had,  he  once  or 
twice  found  a  very  perfect  expression  for  what  he  heard, 
as  in  the  lines  To  Music  to  becalm  his  Fever  (227): 

"  Fall  on  me  like  a  silent  dew, 

Or  like  those  maiden  showers, 
Which  by  the  peep  of  day,  do  strew 
A  baptime  o'er  the  flowers." 

Julia  could  sing  and  play,  it  would  appear,  —  the  poet 
thinks  of  her  walking  in  her  chamber 

"  Melting  melodious  words  to  lutes  of  amber." 

There  is  not  very  much  in  the  Hesperides  that  reminds 
us  that  Herrick  was  a  clergyman.  Indeed,  according  to 
our  modern  conception  of  the  priestly  character,  his 
poetry,  as  far  as  we  have  already  spoken  of  it,  is  not 
merely  secular  in  quality,  but  even  unclerical.  Later  we 
shall  turn  our  attention  to  the  Noble  Numbers,  or  the 
poems  with  which  Herrick  sought  to  make  amends,  as  it 
were,  for  the  unpriestly  character  of  the  Hesperides.  We 
shall  see  that,  though  not  by  any  means  the  equals  of  his 
secular  poetry,  they  are  at  least  sincere,  and  they  do  indi- 
cate a  religious  side  of  his  character  of  which  without  them 
we  should  have  hardly  dreamed.  But  although  a  sincere 
religious  seriousness  may  well  have  been  either  a  phase 


xxxvi  INTRODUCTION. 

in  Herrick's  life  or  a  thread  running  through  his  whole 
character,  it  will  be  readily  acknowledged  that  we  find  in 
his  temper  and  his  work  little  of  that  glowing  zeal  which 
marks  Herbert,  or  of  that  religious  ecstasy  which  marks 
Crashaw.  Some  of  Herrick's  work  is  seriously  devout, 
but  there  is  little  religious  enthusiasm.  Yet  the  time  was 
one  when  religious  enthusiasm  was  in  the  air. 

It  seems  to  me  that  Herrick's  nature  had  its  devotional 
side,  but  that  he  found  little  in  the  church  of  which  he 
was  a  priest  which  called  it  forth.  Had  he  been  a 
Roman  Catholic,  the  case  might  very  possibly  have  been 
different ;  but  as  it  was,  it  seems  evident  that  the  reli- 
gious side  of  his  nature  found  little  expression  in  the  direc- 
tions which  appear  to  us  to  have  been  the  most  natural. 
There  is  no  reason  to  suppose  that  Herrick  slighted  the 
duties  of  his  position  ;  but,  except  for  the  few  poems  in 
the  Noble  Numbers  which  ring  true,  there  is  little  reason 
to  suppose  that  he  went  into  those  duties  heart  and  soul. 
It  was  not  that  there  was  no  opportunity,  it  was  that 
somehow  Herrick  never  saw  the  opportunity.  So  the 
devotional  side  of  his  character  frittered  itself  away. 
Occasionally  it  rose  to  the  seriousness  of  the  lines  To  his 
Sweet  Saviour  (N.  /V.,  77)  ;  occasionally,  perhaps,  he  put 
his  heart  into  the  traditional  usages  of  the  country,  find- 
ing there  expression  for  the  feeling  that  might  have  been 
turned  elsewhere,  —  and  occasionally  his  religious  emo- 
tion was  strangely  turned  and  formed  by  the  strength  of 
his  own  fancy. 

To  Herrick  the  two  greatest  things  of  life  were  Love 
and  Death,  —  and  his  mind  turned  constantly  to  the 
thought  of  one  or  the  other.  And  finding  in  his  own 
religion  no  true  satisfaction  for  his  whole  feeling,  it 
would  really  seem  as  though  he  had  sometimes  fancied, 
half-seriously,  half  in  sport,  a  strange  cult  of  imaginary 


INTRODUCTION.  xxxvii 

deities  in  the  ritual  of  whose  service,  had  it  ever  existed, 
he  might  have  found  a  satisfaction  which  was  given  to 
him  nowhere  else.  More  than  a  fancy  this  could  not  be, 
and  yet  it  gives  the  feeling  to  some  of  the  most  curious 
and  even,  in  some  cases,  the  most  sincere  of  his  poems. 

Several  times  he  bids  his  mistress  to  remember  the 
proper  funeral  rites  when  he  shall  die.,  The  lines  To 
Perilla  (14)  certainly  have  strength  of  feeling  behind 
them,  and  certainly  that  feeling  is  neither  Christian  nor 
what  we  should  call  pagan.  To  Anthea  (22)  is  less  earn- 
est, but  it  may  be  mentioned  as  well.  So  His  Charge  to 
Julia  (629).  But  the  other  verses  To  Anthea  (55)  are 
again  full  of  emotion.  It  is  true  that  the  main  thought 
of  these  poems  is  one  which  might  well  exist  in  any 
serious-minded  man,  and  which  is  observable  elsewhere 
in  Herrick.  Still  the  curious  defmiteness  of  circum- 
stance, the  prescribing  of  these  strange  ceremonies,  in- 
vented or  borrowed  from  any  source,  is  a  different  note. 

As  with  death,  so  with  love.  In  "  Love's  Religion  "  * 
Julia  was  Flaminica  Dialis,  and  the  poem  written  to  her 
with  that  name  (541)  is  very  curious.  Even  if  written 
before  taking  orders  (Mr.  Gosse  thinks  it  was),  the  last 
two  lines  are  such  as  strike  the  attention,  to  say  nothing 
more.  As  Julia  was  the  Queen  Priest,  so  was  Herrick 
the  Rex  Sacrorum  (To  Julia,  976).  There  were  altars 
erected  to  the  mysterious  gods,  —  altars  which  must  be 
served  with  diligence  and  devotion  under  pain  of  high 
displeasure  (cf.  also  To  Electra,  838).  In  The  Sacrifice 
(872)  he  gives  us  a  snatch  of  the  ritual,  and  in  To  Groves 
(451)  we  have  a  hint  of  the  martyrology  and  the  calendar 
of  saints. 

To  take  these  poems  seriously  would  of  course  be  folly. 
Herrick  might  bring  into  his  verse  strange  allusions  to 

1  The  phrase  occurs  in  the  lines  To  his  Mistresses  (38). 


xxx  viii  INTR  OD  UC  TION. 

some  mystic  cult  whose  gods  were  Love  and  Death,  but  he 
never  believed  in  any  such  strange  gods.  No,  nor  did  he 
ever  seriously  conceive  them.  But  so  many  poems  as 
we  have  in  this  strange  strain  show  us  an  inarticulate 
passion,  an  emotional  nature,  which,  could  it  have  found 
the  right  channel,  would  have  grown  strong  and  vigorous. 
These  religious  dreams  were  dreams  and  nothing  more, 
but  not  the  dreams  of  a  Christian  nor  dreams  of  the  gods 
of  Greece  and  Rome.  His  gods  were  the  shadowy  fig- 
ures of  his  own  fancy.  They  were  like  the  terrible  imag- 
inings of  a  child  in  the  dark  :  he  knows  to  a  certainty 
that  no  one  is  there  and  yet  feels  sure  that  some  one  is. 

As  here  Herrick  seems  to  have  gods  of  his  own,  so  in 
yet  a  greater  degree  had  he  his  own  private  gods  to 
guard  his  household.  More  properly  speaking  there 
was  his  one  household  god  or  Lar.  Perhaps  he  too  ob- 
tained with  the  poet  an  affectionate  reality :  "  Jocund 
Lar"  (427)  or  "Lucky  Lar"  (333)  he  calls  him,  or  the 
"  Good  Demon "  (334).  But  sometimes  he  thinks  of 
more  than  one,  the  Lares  (478)  or  Closet  Gods  (654). 

To  the  gods  of  Greece  and  Rome,  or,  more  properly 
speaking,  of  Rome  only,  Herrick  paid  proper  poetic  wor- 
ship, and  of  them  he  made  the  conventional  use.  He 
even  went  a  step  farther  and  wrote  a  little  cycle  of 
poems,  one  to  each  of  the  greater  gods,  promising  that 
if  they  would  be  auspicious  he  would  offer  appropriate 
sacrifice :  to  Apollo,  swans ;  to  Bacchus,  daffodils ;  to 
Neptune,  a  tunnyfish ;  to  Venus,  myrtles ;  to  Juno,  a 
peacock ;  to  Mars,  a  wolf ;  and  to  Minerva,  a  broadfaced 
owl.  So  also  to  Aesculapius  was  a  verse  dedicated  when 
the  poet  was  in  great  grief  over  the  illness  of  Prudence 
Baldwin.  He  promised  a  cock  if  she  should  recover, 
and  let  us  hope  he  paid  the  vow,  for  Prudence  did  not 
die  (just  then),  but  lived  on  for  thirty  years  or  more. 


INTRODUCTION.  xxxix 

With  whatever  unction  Herrick  celebrated  the  rites  of 
the  church  on  those  occasions  which  are  ever  recurrent 
in  life,  he  was  at  least  careful  that  the  muses  at  such  sea- 
sons should  not  remain  unforgotten.  Hence  we  have  a 
number  of  Epithalamia  and  a  number  of  Epitaphs,  and 
among  them  are  some  very  characteristic  poems.  Bach- 
elor though  he  was,  and  though  he  sometimes  swore  he 
would  never  curtail  his  freedom  by  taking  a  wife,  yet 
Herrick  was  warm-hearted  and  of  a  loving  nature.  To 
him  a  marriage  among  his  friends  seems  to  have  been 
the  occasion  for  true  delight  and  happiness.  Lover  as 
he  often  was,  the  ideal  beauty  and  sweetness  of  the 
union  of  two  lovers  had  a  powerful  effect  upon  him,  an 
effect  which,  had  he  been  of  stronger  and  nobler  mind, 
would  have  produced  finer  poems,  but  which,  as  it  was, 
has  given  us  some  of  the  best  specimens  of  a  form  of 
poetry  now  almost  neglected.  And  as  the  thought  of 
marriage  had  for  him  a  great  fascination,  so  also  did  the 
thought  of  death  exercise  over  his  mind  a  domination  no 
less  imperious  than  the  other  because  it  appears  more 
subdued.  We  have  already  seen  that  he  often  thought 
of  his  own  end.  Sometimes  it  was  so  far  only  as  to  write 
a  little  verse  to  the  Robin  Redbreast  to  take  care  of  him 
when  he  could  no  longer  take  care  of  himself,  or  to  the 
Cypresses  to  grow  beside  his  grave,  or  to  the  grave- 
digger,  called  in  kindly  wise  the  bedmaker,  and  some- 
times it  was  merely  in  a  line  or  two  coming  at  the  end  of 
a  poem  in  a  lighter  vein.  One  of  his  longer  poems, 
wherein  he  celebrates  his  pleasure  in  his  home  and  in  his 
friend  John  Wickes,  begins  with  an  imitation  of  "  Eheu 
fugaces."  So,  often  thoughtful  of  his  own  end,  Herrick 
was  moved,  too,  by  the  death  of  others.  The  titles  of 
his  Epitaphs  are  significant  and  pathetic.  Upon  a  Child ; 
Upon  a  Virgin ;  Upon  a  Maid  that  Died  the  Day  She  was 


xl  INTRODUCTION. 

Married ;  Upon  a  Lady  that  Died  in  Childbed  and  left  a 
Daughter  behind  Her;  Upon  a  Sober  Matron ;  Upon  an 
Old  Man,  a  Residentiary.  If  Herrick  was  always  im- 
pressed in  his  own  case  with  the  necessity  of  death,  so 
in  the  case  of  others  did  he  always  see  the  pathos.  It 
needs  no  great  effort  of  the  imagination  to  think  of  the 
old  vicar  who  delighted  so  keenly  in  so  many  of  the 
charming  things  of  the  charming  world  about  him,  gazing 
wistfully  forward  to  the  necessary  end,  brought  contin- 
ually to  his  mind  by  the  passing  of  those  to  whom  death 
must  have  come  as  a  stranger. 

Another  set  of  poems  in  the  Hesperides, —  and  poems 
they  are,  almost  unique  in  English  literature,  —  are  the 
Gnomic  Couplets  or  Sententious  Distichs.  Wise  sayings 
are  these :  sometimes  we  find  quatrains,  but,  as  a  rule, 
some  aphorism  is  compressed  into  two  lines  that  might 
almost  make  a  stone  for  the  mosaic  of  Pope.  Of  these 
little  snatches  there  are  in  the  Hesperides  several  hundred. 
They  deserve  far  more  the  name  "  epigram  "  than  do  the 
quatrains  to  which  that  name  is  usually  given  (v.  inf. 
Ixiv,  Ixv).  For  the  quatrains  are,  on  the  whole,  entirely 
lacking  in  that  concise  point  which  we  nowadays  con- 
sider necessary  to  the  epigram,  whereas  the  couplets 
usually  possess  that  characteristic  to  a  marked  degree. 

I  am  inclined  to  think  that  these  couplets  were  largely 
written  toward  the  end  of  Herrick's  life  in  Devonshire.1 
But  whenever  they  were  written  they  are  an  element  in 
the  Hesperides  which  has  been  passed  over  with  too  little 

1  See  Diss.,  pp.  44  ff.  The  points  of  evidence  are  that  they  occur 
sparely  in  the  earlier  part  of  the  book,  but  with  great  frequency 
toward  the  end;  that  there  are  very  many  of  them  in  the  Noble 
Numbers,  presumably  written,  to  speak  generally,  after  the  Hesperides; 
that  they  agree  in  versification  with  Herrick's  later  views  on  verse ; 
and  that  they  are  more  in  accord  with  the  temper  of  middle  years 
than  with  that  of  youth. 


INTRODUCTION.  xli 

comment.  Wholly  aside  from  any  value  in  subject  matter, 
they  offer  evidence  of  a  certain  characteristic  of  Herrick's 
mode  of  expression  which  is  important.  I  mean  the 
ability  to  put  an  idea  into  concise  and  clear-cut  utterance, 
the  same  ability  that  is  such  a  marked  characteristic  of 
the  genius  of  Pope  and  of  the  other  poets  who  are 
usually  thought  of  in  connection  with  Pope.  Of  this 
there  will  be  more  to  say  in  another  place ;  at  present 
it  is  of  more  interest  to  note  the  ground  covered  by  these 
little  poems.  A  great  number  are  reflections  called  forth 
by  the  political  events  of  the  time.  And  as  such  they  are 
of  value  in  determining  how  Herrick  stood  on  the  great 
questions  which  in  his  day  divided  England.  It  has 
always  been  a  common  opinion,  first,  that  Herrick  stood 
almost  entirely  aloof  from  the  controversy  of  his  time, 
and,  second,  that  he  was  an  ardent  and  devoted  Royalist. 
Although  these  views  will  by  no  means  be  reversed  on  a 
careful  reading  of  his  sententious  utterances  on  politics,  yet 
such  a  reading  will  give  us  a  more  accurate  idea  of  what 
is  meant  by  such  statements  than  we  have  previously  had. 
Undoubtedly,  when  we  compare  Herrick  with  Milton  or 
Marvell,  on  the  one  hand,  or  with  Suckling  or  Lovelace, 
on  the  other,  we  may  say  that  he  stood  aloof  from  the 
quarrels  of  his  time,  as  far  at  least  as  action  is  concerned. 
But  as  to  the  field  of  thought,  we  shall  see  from  these 
couplets  that  the  stormy  state  of  things  about  him  by  no 
means  left  him  unaffected.1  It  is  true  that  it  will  not 
do  to  infer  his  opinions  wholesale  from  these  couplets. 
Doubtless  they  were  not  infrequently  the  expression  of 
some  notion  that  took  his  fancy  for  the  time  being,  and 
could  be  hardly  said  to  make  up  a  part  of  his  serious 
opinion  (P.,  I,  xxv).  But  where  there  are  so  many  evi- 

1  See  also   The  Bad  Season  makes  the  Poet  Sad  (614)  and   Upon 
the  Troublesome  Times  (598). 


xlii  INTRODUCTION. 

dences  of  consideration  as  here,  we  cannot  well  say  that 
the  poet  was  wholly  unmoved.  To  tell  the  truth,  Her- 
rick  seems  to  have  had  opinions  that  were  quite  definite, 
if  not  extraordinary.  He  was  a  Royalist,  in  that  he 
was  loyal  always  to  the  person  of  the  king.  A  Royal- 
ist, also,  in  that  he  approved  theoretically  of  the  royal 
power.  But  that  he  was  an  undiscriminating  Royalist,  a 
Royalist  who  backed  the  king  in  everything,  good  or 
bad,  a  firm  believer  that  "the  king  can  do  no  wrong," 
cannot  be  maintained.  He  had  strong  opinions  on  the 
duty  of  kings  toward  their  people. 

782.    MODERATION. 

In  things  a  moderation  keep, 

Kings  ought  to  shear,  not  skin  their  sheep. 

863.    KINGS  AND  TYRANTS. 

Twixt  kings  and  tyrants  there's  this  difference  known  : 
Kings  seek  their  subjects'  good ;  tyrants  their  own. 

1000.    PATIENCE  IN  PRINCES. 

Kings  must  not  use  the  axe  for  each  offence  : 
Princes  cure  some  faults  by  their  patience. 

1067.    GENTLENESS. 

That  Prince  must  govern  with  a  gentle  hand, 
Who  will  have  love  comply  with  his  command. 

It  is  true  that  there  were  many  who  held  such  views, 
theoretically,  along  with  so  strict  an  adherence  to  the 
"  Divine  right "  that  they  approved  every  act  of  the  actu- 
ally reigning  sovereign.  It  may  be  that  Herrick  was 
such  a  one.  He  was  most  certainly  no  republican  :  he 
had  no  desire  for  a  government  by  the  people. 


INTRODUCTION.  xliii 


538.    ILL  GOVERNMENT. 

Preposterous  is  that  government  and  rude, 
When  kings  obey  the  wilder  multitude. 

345.    THE  POWER  IN  THE  PEOPLE. 

Let  kings  command  and  do  the  best  they  may, 
The  saucy  subjects  still  will  bear  the  sway. 

It  was  natural  that  Herrick  should  have  been  a  Royal- 
ist ;  for  so  many  of  the  beautiful  things  that  he  loved 
seemed  to  belong  by  right  to  the  Royalists  rather  than 
to  the  Puritans.  But  we  must  not  believe  that  it  was 
only  through  emotional  sympathy  that  he  was  loyal  to 
the  king :  he  had  evidently  given  good  thought  to  the 
subject. 

There  are  many  other  subjects  for  these  gnomic  coup- 
lets, although  none  so  constantly  recurrent  as  the  politi- 
cal situation  of  the  day.  The  Horatian  "  Carpe  Diem  " 
supplies  a  few,  not  unnaturally;  there  are  several  on 
The  Golden  Mean.  Some  on  the  End  rather  than  the 
Wayside,  some  on  the  Power  of  Money,  some  on  Fame. 
In  the  Noble  Numbers  there  are  a  number  on  Sin,  of 
which  two  at  least  are  worth  remembering : 

N.  N.,  37.    SIN  SEEN. 

When  once  the  sin  has  fully  acted  been, 
Then  is  the  horror  of  the  trespass  seen. 


Sin  leads  the  way,  but  as  it  goes,  it  feels 

The  following  plague  still  treading  on  his  heels. 

A  greater  number  are  on  sorrow  and  the  bearing  of 
grief ;  gentle  and  resigned  are  these,  some  in  the  Noble 


xliv  INTRODUCTION. 

Numbers,  but  more  in  the  Hesperides ;  and,  lastly,  there 
are  not  a  few  on  Love,  of  which  the  best  are,  perhaps, 
29  and  841. 

We  should,  to-day,  call  such  poems  epigrams.  But  in 
the  study  of  Herrick,  the  word  "epigram"  is  a  technical 
term.  The  poet  himself  applied  it  to  a  class  of  poems 
which  have  given  his  admirers  much  trouble.  These  so- 
called  epigrams,  of  which  there  are  a  good  number,  are 
quatrains  on  various  real  or  imaginary  people,  detailing 
each  one  some  disagreeable  personal  peculiarity.  They 
are  often  nasty  (and  that  in  the  American  sense);  no 
other  word  gives  their  quality  exactly.  They  are  not 
merely  coarse;  they  are  not  all  indecent,  but  they  are 
almost  invariably  nasty.  It  is  the  tradition  that  Herrick 
amused  himself  by  writing  these  epigrams  on  his  parish- 
ioners, but  it  is  merely  a  tradition,  and  one  without  much 
foundation.1  We  have  printed  some  specimens  of  them 
(183,  188,  206,  273,  420,  436,  503,  579,  706)  that  the 
reader  might  not  be  without  means  to  satisfy  himself  on 
this  point  ;  but  a  few  are  enough. 

Other  editors  have  been  puzzled  to  know  just  what  to 
do  with  them.  Dr.  Grosart,  although  he  prints  them 
all,  feels  bound  to  assert  that  Herrick  never  meant  them 
for  publication,  that  it  was  the  publisher  who  insisted  on 
using  them  (I,  cxxi,  cxxii).  Mr.  Pollard  omits  them  all 
that  they  may  be  printed  in  a  detachable  appendix  (a 
sort  of  a  poetical  pigsty:  one  pities  the  compositor  who 
had  to  set  them  up  in  their  unrelieved  nastiness).  Mr. 
Edmund  Gosse  says  that  "it  must  be  confessed  .  .  .  that 

1  It  is  not  very  likely  that  a  parish  like  Dean  would  have  had  so 
very  many  very  disagreeable  people  in  it  as  must  be  inferred  if  these 
epigrams  have  any  basis  in  fact.  Jf  it  had  really  so  many,  we  need 
not  be  surprised  that  Herrick  in  time  became  weary  of  it,  in  spite  of 
its  beauty. 


INTRODUCTION.  xlv 

they  greatly  spoil  the  general  complexion  of  the  book." 
Mr.  Henry  Morley,  so  far  as  I  know,  is  the  only  editor 
who  has  anything  to  say  for  them.  "  There  is  truth  in 
the  close  contact  of  a  playful  sense  of  ugliness  with  the 
most  delicate  perception  of  all  forms  of  beauty.  Her- 
rick's  epigrams  on  running  eyes  and  rotten  teeth  and  the 
like,  are  such  exaggerations  as  may  often  have  tumbled 
out  spontaneously  in  the  course  of  playful  talk,  and,  if 
they  pleased  him  well  enough,  were  duly  entered  in  his 
book.  In  a  healthy  mind,  this  whimsical  sense  of  de- 
formity may  be  but  the  other  side  of  a  fine  sense  of 
beauty."  (Hesp.,  ed.  Morley,  p.  7.)  Except  for  the  sug- 
gestion that  Herrick  may  have  written  more  epigrams 
than  have  been  preserved  to  us,  this  view  seems  the  most 
satisfactory.  Some  such  idea  occurred  also  to  Swinburne, 
who  says,  in  his  preface  to  Mr.  Pollard's  edition  (I,  xii): 
"  It  was  doubtless  in  order  to  relieve  this  saccharine  and 
'  mellisonant '  monotony  that  he  thought  fit  to  intersperse 
these  interminable  droppings  of  natural  or  artificial  per- 
fumes with  others  of  the  rankest  and  most  intolerable 
odor."  But  Swinburne  does  not  think  highly  of  the  mix- 
ture. "  A  diet,"  he  says,  "  of  alternate  sweetmeats  and 
emetics  is  for  the  average  of  eaters  and  drinkers  no  less 
unpalatable  than  unwholesome."  The  fact  is  that  Her- 
rick wrote  the  epigrams,  and  that  fact  we  cannot  explain 
away.  In  part,  we  may  set  them  down  to  a  difference  in 
feeling  on  certain  matters  on  the  part  of  the  seventeenth 
century  and  the  nineteenth.  But  even  after  so  much  has 
been  done,  even  after  Mr.  Morley's  views,  Herrick's  epi- 
grams are  rather  a  bitter  pill  for  a  lover  of  the  poet  to 
swallow,  or  rather  not  so  much  a  bitter  as  a  very  bad- 
tasting  one. 


xlvi  INTRODUCTION. 

III.     THE   NOBLE   NUMBERS. 

Although  Herrick  was  a  clergyman,  yet  his  verse  in 
the  Hesperides,  is,  as  has  been  said,  generally  not  merely 
secular  in  quality  but  even  exceedingly  unclerical,  accord- 
ing to  our  common  conception  of  the  priestly  character. 
Herrick's  gnomic  distichs,  his  epitaphs,  his  poems  to 
friends  are  not  out  of  keeping  with  his  office  of  vicar,  but 
the  main  line  of  thought  of  most  of  the  others  is  not  pre- 
cisely what  we  should  expect  of  one  in  holy  orders. 

Of  this  discrepancy  Herrick  was  well  aware.  He  calls 
attention  to  it  in  the  first  poem  of  the  Noble  Numbers. 
The  Noble  Numbers  are  his  religious  verses,  a  separate 
collection  altogether,  published  between  the  same  covers 
as  the  Hesperides.  At  the  very  outset  Herrick  opposes 
these  pious  offerings  to  the  more  profane  verse  which  has 
gone  before  :  he  makes  his  Confession  (N.  JV.,  i)  and  his 
Prayer  for  Absolution  (N.  JV.,  2).  If  the  Hesperides  is 
found  evil,  he  hopes  that  the  Noble  Numbers  will  be  found 
to  make  amends.  With  such  a  feeling  it  is  a  bit  strange 
that  Herrick  published  both,  —  perhaps  he  had  at  one 
time  the  notion  of  publishing  the  Noble  Numbers  only. 
Certainly  they  have  a  separate  title-page,  a  different  date, 
and  independent  pagination.  The  date  is  1647.  Now 
Herrick  was  ejected  from  his  vicarage  in  1648.  It  may 
be  that  while  he  was  vicar  he  thought  only  of  publishing 
his  pious  poems,  having  given  up  his  earlier  ideas  of 
printing  all  his  work :  on  losing  his  position  he  might 
have  had  many  reasons  which  would  lead  him  to  publish 
all  the  poems  he  had.  If  there  were  ever  doubt  in  his 
mind,  it  was  a  lucky  chance  for  us  and  for  his  fame, 
which  led  him  to  publish  what  he  did. 

In  whatever  way  the  poems  were  published,  we  have 
in  the  Noble  Numbers  Herrick's  sacred  verse,  and  that  as 


INTRODUCTION.  xlvii 

a  part  of  his  whole  production.  It  must  be  confessed  that 
it  is  on  the  whole  a  most  inferior  part,  inferior  in  thought 
and  inferior  in  handling.  There  are,  it  is  true,  poems 
which  have  such  coloring  as  reminds  us  of  the  Hesperides. 
It  was  with  these  poems  in  mind  that  Mr.  Edmund  Gosse 
wrote  :  "  Where  the  Noble  Numbers  are  most  readable  is 
where  they  are  most  secular."  Such  poems  do  give  us 
the  idea  of  singing  "  hymns  of  faultless  orthodoxy,  with  a 
loud  and  lusty  voice,  to  the  old  pagan  airs."  Indeed  the 
whole  criticism  on  the  Noble  Numbers  in  Seventeenth  Cen- 
tury Studies  is  sound  and  gives  one  the  right  idea.  With 
a  few  exceptions,  the  Noble  Numbers  is  little  more  than 
an  attempt  to  turn  the  Garden  of  the  Hesperides  into  a 
Cathedral  close.  There  are  couplets  on  points  of  the- 
ology which  will  balance  the  everyday  distichs.  There 
are  sacred  songs  on  the  Circumcision  or  the  Nativity, 
set  and  sung  before  the  King  like  the  pastorals  of  more 
secular  character.  We  have  the  same  quaint  and  experi- 
mental metres  in  both  books.  We  have  sometimes  the 
same  method  (a  very  common  one,  it  must  be  admitted), 
as  for  instance  in  To  Find  God  (N.  N.,  3)  and  His  Pro- 
testation to  Peril/a  (154)  or  Impossibilities  to  his  Friends 
(198). 

The  result  is  in  very  few  cases  fortunate.  There  are 
hardly  a  dozen  of  the  Noble  Numbers  that  come  up  even 
to  the  average  excellence  of  the  Hesperides.  These  few 
it  is  not  easy  to  characterize  for  they  differ  in  kind  and 
have  by  no  means  the  like  qualities.  I  should  name  as 
the  best,  for  those  who  wish  to  study  them  :  The  Widow's 
Tears,  123  ;  The  Dirge  ofjephthah's  Daughter,  83  ;  Upon 
Time,  38  (with  a  touch  that  reminds  one  of  Herbert)  ;  A 
Thanksgiving  to  God  for  his  House,  47  (cf.  His  Winding 
Sheet,  517);  To  his  Saviour,  a  Child;  59,  To  his  Sweet 
Saviour,  77  (which  has  something  of  the  character  of 


xlviii  INTRODUCTION. 

the  best  Elizabethan  sonnets) ;  His  Wish  to  God,  115;  The 
Bellman,-  121.  These  are  devotional  poems  of  a  high 
order,  but  unfortunately  Herrick  did  not  often  reach  such 
a  level.  Either  it  was  but  rarely  that  his  imagination 
turned  in  such  directions  (perhaps  he  wrote  the  Noble 
Numbers  on  Sundays  and  the  Hesperides  on  week  days),  or 
else  it  may  be  that  it  was  only  toward  the  close  of  his  life 
in  Devonshire  that  Herrick  really  began  to  feel  a  certain 
emptiness  and  vanity  in  his  earlier  work  and  that  his 
mind  really  turned  into  serious  channels.  There  are 
several  reasons  which  support  such  a  view  as  this  latter. 
I  am  inclined  to  believe  that  the  Noble  Numbers  were  the 
last  written  poems  :  the  poet  was  trying  a  new  vein  and, 
as  it  turned  out,  no  very  successful  one. 


IV.    THE  CHRONOLOGICAL  EVIDENCE  OF  HERRICK'S 
POEMS. 

Such  then  are  the  poems  of  Herrick  that  he  presented 
to  the  world  in  his  book.  Some  few  others  he  wrote  (as 
has  been  remarked  on  page  xvii)  but  it  is  by  his  book  that 
he  is  really  and  sufficiently  represented.  And  what  does 
his  book  tell  us  of  his  life  ?  This  is  the  first  question 
that  the  scholar  must  ask  himself,  if  only  to  get  it  out  of 
the  way  and  leave  room  for  a  freer  enjoyment  of  the 
poems  themselves. 

Here  there  are  somewhat  varying  views.  As  a  rule 
those  interested  in  the  matter  have  been  well  content 
merely  to  draw  this  or  that  inference  from  this  or  that 
poem,  and  to  produce,  as  a  result,  a  portrait  of  the  poet 
as  fanciful  as  it  was  charming.  Until  the  Memorial  In- 
troduction of  Dr.  Grosart,  hardly  any  attempt  was  made 


INTRODUCTION.  xlix 

to  deal  with  the  Hesperides  critically.  And  yet  there  are 
few  books  which  need  more  careful  criticism,  if  we  desire 
to  obtain  any  information  that  we  can  rely  on.  It  is  easy 
enough  to  enjoy  the  Hesperides,  but  to  learn  anything 
of  Herrick  from  his  book  is  not  so  simple  a  matter.  For 
the  Hesperides  is  a  garden  without  order  and  without 
arrangement.  The  poems  of,  it  may  be,  thirty  years  and 
more  appear  in  the  most  glorious  confusion  and  with  the 
most  tantalizing  silence  as  to  their  origin.  When  it  is 
doubtful  if  Herrick  were  twenty  or  forty  when  he  wrote 
one  or  another  poem,  when  we  do  not  know  if  two  poems 
were  written  the  same  year  or  with  an  interval  of  a  quarter 
of  a  century,  it  is  quite  obvious  that  we  cannot  be  too 
cautious  in  drawing  inferences. 

In  this  confusion  Dr.  Grosart  endeavored  to  establish 
some  order.  He  formed  a  theory  as  to  the  different 
elements  which  make  up  the  book  as  we  have  it,  a  theory 
for  which  he  presented  the  bases  in  pp.  cxii-cxxviii  of  his 
Memorial  Introduction. 

Concerning  the  views  of  Dr.  Grosart,  I  have  elsewhere 
expressed  myself  quite  fully.1  A  careful  examination  of 
his  argument  seemed  to  show  that  his  results  were  not 
justified.  Even  had  they  been  wholly  borne  out,  they 
would  not  have  helped  us  very  much  in  the  question  in 
hand.  I  do  not  know  that,  even  at  best,  we  shall  be 
very  much  helped  ;  but  we  may  at  least  take  precau- 
tion against  going  astray.  In  such  a  study  it  is  neces- 
sary to  be  resolute  in  not  assuming  what  we  desire 
to  prove.  Herrick's  character  is  to  be  the  result,  not 
the  basis.  We  cannot  begin  by  saying,  It  would  be 
most  likely  that  a  man  like  Herrick  would  have  written 
this,  or  this,  at  such  and  such  a  time.  Intellectual  self- 
respect  compels  us  to  take  the  trouble  to  find  something 

i  Diss.,  §  4- 


1  INTRODUCTION. 

more  substantial.  Until  we  have  otherwise  determined 
enough  poems  to  get  an  idea  of  the  poet's  character,  we 
cannot  rightly  infer  the  date  of  a  poem  therefrom.  We 
must  first  proceed  by  other  means.  Now  other  means 
are  by  no  means  numerous.  A  good  many  poems  may 
be  dated  with  some  exactness  on  account  of  allusions  to 
known  events.  Upon  his  Sister-in-law,  Mistress  Elizabeth 
Herrick  (72),  would  have  been  written  in  1643,  the  year 
in  which  Mistress  Herrick  died.  To  the  King  upon  his 
Coming  with  his  Army  into  the  West  (77)  would  naturally 
have  been  written  in  1644,  the  year  in  which  the  ex- 
pedition in  question  took  place.  Dr.  Grosart  and  Mr. 
Pollard  have  done  much  toward  determining  such  dates 
and  I  have  gratefully  availed  myself  of  their  work  in  this 
direction.  It  is  also  possible  to  say,  to  a  limited  extent, 
"  such  and  such  a  poem  is  more  likely  to  have  been  written 
in  Devonshire,  —  or  in  London."  But  here  we  must  not 
be  too  eager.  It  seems  as  though  The  Hock-cart  (250)  or 
The  Wake  (763)  must  have  been  written  in  Devonshire. 
So  A  Frolic  (584)  or  To  Live  Merrily  (201)  should  have 
been  written  during  his  tavern  life  in  London.  But  this 
mode  of  determining  is  less  certain. 

Another  help  comes  from  a  study  of  Herrick's  versifi- 
cation. Everybody  is  familiar  with  the  literary  change  of 
heart  which  sent  the  verse  of  Shakespeare  out  of  fashion 
in  favor  of  the  verse  of  Pope.  A  comparison  of  Herrick's 
longer  poems  shows  development  in  the  same  direction 
(pp.  Ivii,  Iviii),  and  so  gives  us  conjecturally  the  approxi- 
mate date  of  a  good  many  of  his  longer  poems.  An- 
other form  of  evidence,  pointed  out  also  by  Mr. 
Pollard,  lies  in  the  general  distribution  of  the  poems. 
It  seems  probable  that  the  greater  number  of  poems  in 
the  first  part  of  the  Hesperides  were  written  before  Herrick 
had  put  together  his  collections  in  1640,  and  that  most 


INTRODUCTION.  \\ 

of  the  others  were  written  afterward.  Mr.  Pollard's  argu- 
ment is  based  on  the  presence  of  poems  which  can  be 
dated  early,  in  the  first  part  only,  and  on  the  lack  of  MS. 
copies  of  poems  in  the  last  half.  My  own  argument, 
which  was  made  before  I  had  seen  Mr.  Pollard's  edition, 
rests  chiefly  upon  a  comparison  of  the  poems  in  the 
latter  part  of  the  book  with  the  Introductory  Verse,  and 
upon  the  prevalence  of  Gnomic  Poems  in  the  latter  part 
of  the  Hesperides  and  in  the  Noble  Nitmbers  (Diss.,  p.  44). 

From  such  preliminary  work  as  this,  we  may,  I  believe, 
date  enough  poems  to  give  us  the  general  drift  of  the 
poet's  development.  I  am  myself  accustomed  to  think 
of  three  periods  ;  having  for  dividing  points  the  years 
1629  and  1640.  I  would  gladly  have  ground  for  dividing 
the  first  period  into  two,  one  of  the  poet's  university 
days,  the  other  of  his  days  in  London,  but  I  find  no 
special  reasons.  The  second  period  includes  his  Devon- 
shire life  down  to  the  time  when,  in  1640,  he  planned  to 
publish  his  poems.  The  last  would  embrace  the  time 
between  1640  and  the  final  publishing. 

Of  these  points  of  division,  the  first  is,  of  course,  of 
such  a  nature  as  might  readily  have  been  expected  to 
work  a  change  in  the  feeling  and  character  of  the  poet. 
Up  to  that  time  he  had  been  a  student  at  Cambridge  and 
a  young  poet  in  London.  Afterward  he  was  a  country 
vicar  in  a  distant  part  of  England.  That  his  earlier 
work  should  be  marked  by  qualities  of  exuberance  and 
license  which  are  not  so  noticeable  later  would  be  but 
natural.  The  second  point  of  time,  however,  is  quite 
arbitrary,  and  is  chosen  only  because  it  is  possible  in 
many  cases  to  infer  that  a  poem  comes  before  it  or  after. 
The  gathering  together  of  his  poems  for  publication  is,  of 
course,  a  point  in  Herrick's  life,  but  not  such  a  point  as 
necessarily  marks  a  change  in  his  character  and  way  of 


la  INTRODUCTION. 

looking  at  things.  But  some  point  of  time  must  be 
chosen  to  separate  the  poems  of  Herrick's  earlier  mood 
from  those  which  came  later,  and  this  is  a  convenient  one 
to  choose. 

The  poems  which  can  be  definitely  assigned  to  the  first 
period  are  such  as  bear  out  the  conclusion  we  might 
naturally  have  come  to  without  them.  The  two  poems 
on  Sack  (128,  197),  The  Farewell  to  Poetry  (p.  133),  The 
Apparition  (577),  His  Daughter's  Dowry,  The  Cruel  Maid 
(159),  are  poems  all  of  a  piece  in  character  as  well  as  in 
versification.  In  versification  they  are  the  work  of  the 
admirer  of  Jonson  ;  in  character  they  are  decidedly  secu- 
lar to  say  the  least.  The  more  we  read  them,  the  more 
are  we  inclined  to  agree  with  Dr.  Grosart,  though  on  dif- 
ferent grounds,  that  the  great  number  of  Herrick's  erotic 
and  bacchanalian  poems  belong  here.  We  are  not  sur- 
prised that  the  other  evidence  should  put  in  this  period 
the  two  fine  Epithalamia,  To  Sir  Southwell  and  his  Lady 
(149),  and  On  Sir  Clipseby  Crew  and  his  Lady  (283), 
which  have  a  warmth  and  glow  to  them  that  is  hardly  in 
harmony  with  the  more  self-restrained  character  of  the 
Devonshire  poems.  Here,  too,  would  I  put  the  fine 
Corinna's  going  a- Maying  (178). 

After  he  had  been  in  Devonshire  for  ten  years  or  so, 
Herrick  gathered  together  his  poems  with  a  view  to  pub- 
lication. The  book  was  even  entered  in  the  Stationers' 
Register,  but  was  not  published.  We  can  form  some 
idea  of  its  contents  (p.  li),  and  excluding  such  as  we 
believe  to  have  been  written  in  Cambridge  or  London, 
we  have  the  poems  which  give  us  our  notion  of  Herrick 
during  the  first  years  of  his  stay  in  Devonshire.  It  is 
from  these  poems  that  we  get  the  idea  of  Herrick  the 
country-lover.  Here  come  the  poems  on  country  customs 
and  country  pleasures.  They  are  fresh  and  happy  poems : 


INTRODUCTION.  liii 

the  poet  is  in  love  with  his  surroundings.  If  we  must 
put  here  any  of  the  poems  expressing  disgust  of  Devon- 
shire, we  may  believe  that  they  represent  transitory  moods 
rather  than  a  prevalent  temper.  Whoever  will  read  The 
Hock-cart  (250),  The  Wake  (763),  The  Country  Life  (664), 
His  Content  in  the  Country  (554),  To  Mrs.  Anne  Soame 
(375)»  TO  the  Maids  (618),  and  To  Phillis  (523),  will,  I 
believe,  have  little  difficulty  in  believing  that  they  were 
written  in  Devonshire.  And  it  is  these  poems  which 
show  especially  the  more  restrained  and  indeed  confined 
versification  which  we  have  thought  characteristic  of 
Herrick's  later  manner.  I  believe,  also,  that  a  general 
restraint  and  control  will  be  observed  in  the  thought  and 
the  handling. 

In  the  later  years,  between  1640  and  1648,  the  poems 
take  on  a  graver  tone.  The  characteristic  Devonshire 
poems  have  been  already  written :  those  that  come  at  the 
end  of  the  Hesperides  are  by  no  means  among  the  best. 
The  early  freshness  seems  largely  lost  and  we  have 
apparently  many  of  the  sententious  distichs.  The  Noble 
Numbers,  too,  would  in  great  part  seem  to  belong  here. 
Here,  too,  come  not  a  few  poems  to  public  persons  or  on 
public  events,  which  latter  at  this  time  sometimes  had 
their  depressing  influence  on  the  poet.  The  poems  on 
"  loathed  Devonshire  "  would  hardly  be  so  much  out  of 
place  here  as  earlier.  It  may  well  be  that  Herrick  was 
by  no  means  sorry  to  be  superseded. 

If  what  has  been  said  does  not  supply  us  with  very 
full  material  for  making  out  our  poet's  life,  and  character, 
it  does  at  least  one  thing  worth  doing.  It  shows  some 
rational  ground  for  dispelling  some  of  the  contradictions 
that  have  long  existed  in  our  ideas  of  Herrick  as  a  man. 
Herrick  loved  Devonshire  and  hated  it:  we  have  seen 
that  there  is  good  reason  to  suppose  that  the  poems 


liv  INTRODUCTION. 

which  express  his  affection  were  the  product  of  his 
earlier  years  in  his  vicarage,  and  that  later  a  graver  tone 
prevails  which  might  often  have  deepened  into  disgust. 
Herrick  enjoyed  a  simple  country  life  and  yet  delighted 
in  wild  orgies.  But  we  have  seen  that  there  is  good 
reason  to  suppose  that  the  bacchanalia  belong  to  his  life 
in  London  or  Cambridge,  the  poems  of  the  country  life 
to  the  first  years  in  Devonshire.  In  some  such  way,  too, 
may  we  think  of  the  curious  difference  in  Herrick's 
religious  poetry.  Some  of  the  most  secular  was  prob- 
ably written  while  in  London  or  early  in  Devonshire. 
And  the  most  theological  are  all  of  a  piece  with  the  sen- 
tentious couplets  which  were  probably  the  fruit  of  his 
last  years  in  Devonshire. 

But  it  would  be  futile  as  well  as  foolish  to  try  to  make 
out  a  character  for  Herrick  which  should  reduce  him  to 
the  dead  level  of  what  we  may  imagine  properly  consist- 
ent. He  was  of  a  quick,  emotional  nature,  feeling  one 
thing  now,  another  later.  He  could  doubtless  write,  in 
the  morning,  one  of  the  prettiest  of  his  poems  on  flowers 
or  to  one  of  his  girls,  and  in  the  evening  turn  out  an 
epigram  of  the  nastiest  kind.  Or  else  he  could  feel  to 
the  full  the  sweet  gentleness  of  his  own  vicarage  and  of 
his  country  life,  and  in  another  hour  he  could  pen  some 
lines  boisterous  with  reminiscence  of  his  London  days. 
One  day  he  was  calmly  delighted  with  Devonshire,  and 
the  next  he  was  disgusted  with  it.  It  is  the  good  side  of 
a  study  of  Herrick  that  with  the  material  at  hand,  we 
can  never  be  very  dogmatic ;  we  must  always  leave  the 
final  imagining  to  each  separate  reader.  But  the  general 
groundwork  that  can  be  settled  is  by  no  means  useless, 
even  though  it  do  not  accomplish  everything. 


INTRODUCTION.  lv 

V.     VERSIFICATION   AND   VOCABULARY. 

One  of  the  satisfying  and  refreshing  things  about  Her'- 
rick's  poetry  is  his  facility  in  verse-form.  His  words 
seem  to  bubble  into  metre  with  the  spontaneous  ease  of 
a  bird.  Although  the  greater  part  of  his  work  is  in  com- 
mon forms,  yet  there  is  enough  in  freer  mood  to  show 
that  his  ingenuity  in  this  particular  was  practically  inex- 
haustible, or,  more  accurately,  that  his  imagination  was 
never  weary  of  creating  new  forms  for  his  fancies. 

His  verse-forms  vary  from  the  conventional  couplet  or 
the  stanza  with  alternate  rhyme,  to  a  freedom  of  con- 
struction that  reminds  one  of  a  modern  ode.  And  yet  this 
freedom  is  never  licentious;  the  same  structure  is  often 
carried  through  stanza  after  stanza  with  masterly  regu- 
larity and  ease.  And,  in  writing  couplets  or  stanzas  of 
alternate  rhyme,  Herrick  by  no  means  confined  himself 
to  one  given  form  ;  we  have  decasyllabics,  octosyllabics, 
and  so  down  even  to  the  dissyllabic  triplets  of  477,  Upon 
his  Departure  Hence.  Nor  was  he  content  with  such 
diversity  :  even  in  the  common  following  rhyme  he  varies 
the  metre  so  as  to  produce  the  grave  effect  of  His  Wind- 
ing Sheet  (517),  or  A  Thanksgiving  to  God  for  His  House 
(N.  N.,  47)  ;  the  reminiscence  of  the  classic  elegiac  as 
in  A  Country  Life  (106),  or  A  Panegyric  to  Sir  Lewis 
Pemberton  (377)  ;  the  elaborate  stanzaic  forms  of  A  Nup- 
tial Song  (283),  or  His  Age  (336)  ;  or  the  delicate  color- 
ing of  To  the  Yew  and  Cypress  (280),  or  The  Primrose 
(582).  In  like  manner,  but  not  with  such  variety,  does  he 
use  the  alternate  rhyme,  as  in  Upon  Julia's  Hair  (486), 
or  His  Grange  (726).  Some  forms  where  the  versifica- 
tion may  seem  at  first  wholly  unrestrained  will  be  regu- 
larly repeated  in  recurring  stanzas,  as  in  To  Laurels  (89), 
An  Ode  to  Endymion  Porter  (185),  To  Primroses  (257), 


lvi  INTRODUCTION. 

or  To  Daffodils  (316).  Somewhat  less  elaborate  in  stan- 
zaic  structure  are  the  lines  to  Clipseby  Crew  (546),  to 
Benjonson  (913),  To  Blossoms  (469).  Now  and  then  we 
have  just  a  snatch  at  the  end  of  some  decasyllabics,  as 
in  A  Pastoral  (422),  or  To  a  Gentlewoman  (164).  In 
The  Tear  (123)  the  form  is  used  with  peculiar  happiness 
in  the  first  stanza.  So  also  in  To  Music  (227). 

Two  minor  curiosities  may  be  mentioned.  Several 
times  Herrick  divides  a  word  and  rhymes  with  the  first 

syllable,  as  in 

"  Spice- 
ing  the  chaste  air  with  fumes  of  Paradise." 

—  A  Nuptial  Sons  (283),  St.  2  (cf.  also  St.  6). 

There  are  also  a  number  of  examples  in  Oberorfs  Feast 
(444).  And  rarely  he  rhymes  following  words  within  the 
line,  as 

"Two  smelling,  swelling,  bashful  cherrylets" 
or 

"  a  virgin  merry,  cherry-lip'd." 

—  The  Description  of  a  Woman,  lines  20  and  22. 

But  all  such  enumeration  and  comment  does  little 
more  than  call  attention  to  what  any  one  can  readily 
enough  appreciate  without  criticism. 

Swinburne  says  of  Herrick  :  "  The  apparent  or  external 
variety  of  his  versification  is,  I  should  suppose,  incom- 
parable," and  here  most  people  would  incline  to  agree 
with  him,  excepting  perhaps  from  the  comparison  Swin- 
burne himself.  It  does  not  seem  to  me  that  he  is  so 
happy  in  his  view  that  Herrick's  "  more  ambitious  or 
pretentious  lyrics  are  merely  magnified  or  prolonged 
songs."  With  such  a  judgment  we  can  only  agree  by 
throwing  out  of  consideration  a  good  number  of  Her- 
rick's longer  poems,  which  are  not  songs  and  have  no 
resemblance  to  songs.  It  may  be  that  Swinburne  does 


INTRODUCTION.  Ivii 

throw  these  out  of  consideration,  for  he  uses  the  word 
"  lyrics,"  and  these  are  certainly  not  lyrics.  There  are 
a  number  of  Herrick's  longer  poems  written  in  the  deca- 
syllabic couplet,  not  his  best  work,  perhaps,  but,  as  will 
be  seen  at  a  glance,  very  characteristic.  Aside  from  the 
question  of  their  poetic  value,  however,  these  poems  are 
of  interest  to  the  student  of  literary  history  for  the  light 
they  throw  on  the  development  in  the  seventeenth  cen- 
tury of  that  famous  form  which  in  its  variations  has  been 
almost  an  index  of  the  poetic  excellence  of  its  time.  As 
is  well  known,  the  result  of  that  century  was  that  the  run- 
ning freedom  of  the  Elizabethans  became  the  formal 
elegance  of  Pope.  Concerning  the  exact  history  of  the 
change  there  have  been  various  opinions,  but  no  one 
would  be  astonished  to  see  that  the  tendency  showed 
itself  in  the  poetry  of  Herrick.  For  such  as  are  inter- 
ested in  the  matter,  I  transfer  from  a  former  publication 
a  table  showing  the  frequency  of  run-on  lines  and  coup- 
lets in  Herrick's  longer  poems.  The  poems  selected  are 
all  written  either  in  decasyllabic  or  octosyllabic  couplets, 
and  are  more  than  twenty  lines  in  length.  From  shorter 
poems  it  seemed  hardly  fair  to  form  an  opinion  in  either 
direction.  The  percentages  are  made  by  dividing  the 
number  of  run-on  couplets  and  midstopped  lines  by  the 
number  of  couplets,  and  are  useful,  of  course,  only  for 
comparative  purposes. 

Percentage  of    Percentage  of 
mid-stopped          overrun 
lines.  couplets. 

577  The  Apparition      .......  52  33 

293  Oberon's  Feast 50  22 

444  Oberon's  Palace 43  33 

128  The  Welcome  to  Sack    ....  43  21 

197  His  Farewell  to  Sack      ....  40  35 

136  The  Suspicion 37  28 

His  Farewell  unto  Poetry    .     .     .  37  15 


INTRODUCTION. 


Percentage  of    Percentage  of 
mid-stopped  overrun 

lines.  couplets. 

467  The  Parting  Verse      .....  29  30 

157  The  Cruel  Maid      ......  25  33 

His  Daughter's  Dowry   .     .     .     .  n  16 

319  A  New  Year's  Gift     .....  9  8 

664  The  Country  Life  ......  4  3 

N.  N.  263  Good  Friday      .......  3  2 

223  The  Temple  .......  2  6 

N.  N.  230  His  Meditation  Upon  Death   .     .  i  o 

672  A  Paranaeticall      ......  13  o 

182  The  Captived  Bee       .....  1  1  o 

523  To  Phillis      ........  o  ii 

618  To  the  Maids     .......  o  n 

640  The  Beggar  to  Mab    .....  o  8 

The  Description  of  a  Woman      .  o  3 

554  His  Content  in  the  Country    .     .  o  o 

375  To  Mrs.  Anne  Soame     .     .     .     .  o  o 

250  The  Hock  Cart      ......  o  o 

763  The  Wake     ........  o  o 

2  To  His  Muse  .......  o  o 

In  the  Dissertation  often  cited,  I  used  this  table  as  a 
help  toward  laying  down  bases  for  chronology.  It 
seemed  natural  to  suppose  that  the  difference  might  rep- 
resent a  development  :  if  so,  it  would  be  also  natural 
that  the  development  should  be  in  the  line  of  the  prog- 
ress during  the  century.  The  poems  with  most  run-on 
couplets  would  then  be  earlier.  Those  with  none  would 
be  later.  This  opinion  is  somewhat  confirmed  by  the 
large  proportion  of  gnomic  couplets  in  the  latter  part  of 
the  Hesperides.  Mr.  Pollard  (II,  291)  supposes  that  the 
poems  in  the  latter  half  of  the  book  were,  as  a  rale,  written 
later.  From  different  reasoning,  I  came  independently 
to  the  same  result  (Diss.,  §  8).  The  habit  of  writing 
these  little  distichs  would  have  tended  to  make  his  pen- 
tameter couplets  more  "  correct  "  ;  or  it  may  be  that  the 


INTRODUCTION.  Hx 

correctness  of  his  pentameter  turned  him  to  writing  the 
distichs.  In  either  case  it  seems  to  me  probable  that, 
as  Herrick  grew  older,  he  changed  his  ideas,  or  at  least 
his  practice,  as  to  enjambement  to  some  degree,  though, 
of  course,  he  never  reached  the  smooth-clipped  charac- 
teristics of  Pope,  or  even  of  Waller.  Nor  is  it  probable 
that  he  would  have  cared  to  do  so,  had  he  conceived  of 
such  versification. 

Although  it  will  not  be  possible  to  present  here  any 
detailed  study  of  Herrick's  vocabulary,  yet  it  will  not  be 
out  of  place  to  note  a  few  points,  which,  with  the  glos- 
sary of  uncommon  words,  will  do  something  to  indicate 
to  the  linguistic  student  what  interest  may  attach  to  Her- 
rick's poetry  in  this  respect. 

Most  noteworthy  is  Herrick's  freedom  in  word  forma- 
tion. Undoubtedly  the  English  language  was  by  no 
means  so  stiff  at  that  time  as  it  has  since  become.  Even 
a  very  little  reading  of  Elizabethan  English  will  show  a 
flexibility  of  language  which  allowed  new  formations  with 
a  frequency  now  uncommon.  It  would  almost  seem, 
however,  that  Herrick  availed  himself  of  the  possibilities 
of  word-formation  with  greater  freedom  than  most  of  his 
contemporaries.  It  is  not  possible  at  present  to  be  sure 
whether  some  special  form  were  or  were  not  coined  by 
Herrick  :  in  the  following  list  there  are  probably  a  good 
number  of  words  which  may  be  found  in  other  authors, 
but  many  of  them  are  undoubtedly  new  formations. 

i .  Verbs  compounded  -with  be-.  Bedangling,  944  ;  befringed,  D. 
W.;^  behung,  336;  bepearled,  582;  bepimpled,  108  ;  bepranked, 
523 ;  bescattered,  D.  W.;  beset,  N.  N.,  96 ;  beshivered,  N.  N.,  3 ; 
bestrewed,  506;  besmears,  201;  bespangling,  178;  bestrutted,  293; 
bewearied,  336;  bestroking,  283;  bewash,  1028;  besweetened,  293; 
bethwack,  1053. 

1  The  Description  of  a  Woman. 


lx  INTRODUCTION. 

2.  Verbs  compounded  with  circum-.      Circumbinds,  223;    circum- 
crossed,  653;  circumflanked,  747;  circumfused,  179;  circummortal, 
445;  circumspangle,  806 ;    circumvolving,  169;  circumwalk,  35  :  c/., 
also,  circumgyration,  968 ;  circumspacious,  924. 

3.  Verbs  compounded  with  inter-.     Interplaced,  986 ;  intertalked, 
268. 

4.  Verbs  compounded  with  re- .      Reaspire,  98  ;    reconverse,  698 ; 
recollect,  722,  962 ;  redelivers,  323 ;    repossess,  963;  resojourn,  86; 
reworn,  148  :  cf.,  also,  remeeting,  355. 

5.  Diminutives  in  -let.     Armilet,  47  ;  cherrylet,  D.  W.;  flagonet, 
784;  flosculet,  316;  nervelet,  41 ;  niplet,  190;  pipkinet,  N.  JV.,  130; 
rubylet,  654 ;  trammelet,  D.  W.;  thronelet,  210;  zonulet,  35. 

6.  Diminutives  in  -ling.     Firstling,  36 ;  fondling,  23 ;  killing,  106, 
200,  336,  444;  shepherdling,  2  (cf.  523  and  p-lxi);  steerling,  718; 
sweetling,  635;  youngling,  250,  257,  283,  377,  577,  635,  664. 

7.  Nouns  in  -ment.     Affrightment,  N.  IV.,  263 ;  designment,  926 ; 
divorcement,  197  ;  justment,  82. 

8.  Nouns  in  -ship.      Babyship,    213;    dukeship,    266 ;    kingship, 
213;  queenship,  88  ;  saintship,  498. 

9.  Feminities   in    -ess.      Disposeress,    718;    neatherdess,    986; 
rectress,  1082;  spartaness,  142.     Cf.  also  poetress,  265. 

10.  Nouns  compounded  with  fore-.     Foreleader,  979;  foreshows, 
124;  foresounds,  319. 

11.  Adjectives   compounded    with    un-.       Undreadful,    323;    un- 
smooth,  571  ;  N.  N.,  137  ;  unsober,  592;  unsoft,  748. 

Such  examples  as  these  show  a  freedom  in  the  hand- 
ling of  material  that  is  practically  an  artistic  character- 
istic. 

The  subject  of  new  word  formations  is  one  which  has 
some  rather  curious  by-paths.  There  are  a  few  words  in 
Herrick's  poetry  which  seem  to  illustrate  what  is  com- 
monly known  as  contamination.  In  To  Live  Merrily  and 
to  Trust  to  Good  Verses  (201)  we  find  the  curious  word 
immensive:  — 

"  Then  this  immensive  cup 

Of  aromatic  wine, 
Catullus,  I  quaff  up 

To  that  terce  muse  of  thine." 


INTRODUCTION.  Ixi 

And  again  in  687  we  have  the  expression  "this  immen- 
sive  sphere." 

Such  words  occur  in  conversation  not  so  infrequently 
as  one  might  think :  the  speaker  has  two  ideas  or  two 
words  in  his  mind,  and  mingles  them  in  his  expression 
into  one.  But  in  literature  they  are  more  rare.  Such  is 
the  word  slantindicular,  sometimes  to  be  heard  in  Amer- 
ica, and  to  be  found  in  Martin  Chuzzlewit.  Such  the 
word  eloquential,  which  I  have  heard  used  in  conversa- 
tion for  eloquent,  and  consequential.  Such  the  word  with- 
strain,  which  I  have  seen  in  writing  to  express  withstand 
and  restrain.  Such  a  word  is  f row  I,  such  quib.  They  are 
used  once  on  the  spur  of  the  moment,  and  if  noticed  are 
corrected.  For  other  examples  see  Carroll,  Through  the 
Looking-glass,  pp.  126,  128;  Paul,  Principien  der  Sprach- 
geschichte,  chap,  viii,  §§  242-245  ;  and  Wheeler,  Analogy, 
and  its  Scope  in  Language,  p.  8. 

Immensive  seems  to  have  been  thrown  out  by  Herrick 
because  it  sounded  like  immense  and  like  expansive,  both 
of  which  ideas  he  may  have  had  in  mind.  Zonulet  (114), 
although  properly  enough  formed  as  a  double  diminutive 
from  zone,  is  used  with  a  distinct  reminiscence  of  the 
meaning  of  amulet.  So  in  shepharling  (fern.),  52336,  he 
may  have  had  shepherdess  and  darling,  although  shep- 
hardling,  2  t2,  is  one  of  Herrick's  favorite  diminutives.  In 
the  version  of  283  in  the  Harleian  MS.,  6917  (printed 
by  Mr.  Pollard,  I,  291)  we  find  in  st.  16  [9]  "the 
fragrous  bride."  It  was  changed  in  the  Hesperides  to 
fragrant.  But  the  first  word  has  the  effect  of  odorous  as 
well  as  of  fragrant. 

Such  words  as  these,  although  they  appear  at  first 
merely  whimsical,  are  yet  of  a  certain  philological  value. 
They  may  have  been  used  consciously,  in  which  case 
they  indicate  hardly  more  than  ingenuity  on  the  part  of 


Ixii  INTRODUCTION. 

the  writer,  and  flexibility  on  the  part  of  the  language. 
But  they  may  have  been  used  unconsciously;  in  which 
case  we  see  the  poet  with  his  mind  absorbed  in  his  idea, 
striking  out,  as  it  were,  a  new,  unifying,  and  meaningful 
expression. 

Another  characteristic  of  the  English  of  Herrick's  day, 
—  or  at  least  of  a  great  part  of  the  published  English,  — 
is  also  distinctly  marked  in  his  poetry,  namely,  the  use 
of  words  borrowed  from  the  Latin  in  the  Latin  sense. 

The  importation  of  Latin  words  into  English  was  be- 
gun systematically  about  one  hundred  years  before  Her- 
rick's time  by  Sir  Thomas  Elyot.  Although  the  principle 
was  strongly  opposed  by  Sir  John  Cheke  and  others,  yet 
there  were  not  a  few  writers  in  the  sixteenth  century  who 
adopted  the  idea,  so  that  by  1600  "inkhorn  terms,"  as 
they  had  been  called  by  Wilson,  were  by  no  means  un- 
common. Bacon's  work  abounds  in  them,  and  after 
Bacon,  Jeremy  Taylor,  Sir  Thomas  Browne  and  Milton. 
Of  these  borrowings  many  have  been  retained,  usually 
with  a  change  of  meaning,  commonly  in  the  direction  of 
tropical  signification.  "  He  had  a  star  to  illustrate  his 
birth,"  says  Jeremy  Taylor.  "  Coming  into  an  inn,"  says 
Lord  Herbert  of  Cherbury,  "  I  found  my  fame  had  pre- 
ventedmy  coming  thither."  "On  the  other  side,  Incensed 
with  indignation  Satan  stood  Unterrified,"  says  Milton. 
"The  contempt  of  death  from  corporal  animosity"  says 
Sir  Thomas  Browne.  "  After  a  few  minutes'  refreshment 
[they]  determine  in  loathing,"  says  South. 

Examples  of  this  very  common  practice  may  be  found 
in  Herrick  also,  of  which  the  following  are  a  number : 
candid,  445,  900  ;  circumstants,  197 ;  continent,  506, 
742  ;  convinces,  197  ;  cunctation,  746,  922  ;  determine, 
577  ;  effused,  636  ;  errs,  83  ;  errors,  444;  instant,  319;. 
indignation,  871  ;  lations,  133  ;  lautitibus,  785  ;  mel,  370  ; 


INTRODUCTION.  Ixiii 

perspire,  644;    reiterate,    1030;    regredience,  658;  resi- 
dent, 521  ;  retorted,  201  ;  transpire,  375,  577. 

These  are  not  so  different  from  the  examples  that 
might  be  quoted  from  contemporaries.  They  are,  how- 
ever, perhaps  worth  noting  because  Herrick  was  not  a 
learned  writer  like  Jeremy  Taylor,  Sir  Thomas  Browne, 
or  Milton.  Other  lyrists  of  his  day,  Herbert,  Crashaw, 
Suckling,  are  hardly  so  Latinized  in  diction. 


VI.     HERRICK   THE    POET. 

So  much  for  various  things  of  interest  from  various 
points  of  view  concerning  Herrick's  poetry.  I  hope  that 
something  has  been  said  which  will  resolve  questions 
which  may  come  up  in  reading  the  selections  which  fol- 
low ;  I  hope,  too,  that  such  information  as  there  may  be 
will  in  no  wise  divert  attention  from  the  real  sources  of 
delight  which  every  lover  of  poetry  will  find  in  the 
Hesperides.  For  this  is  the  main  thing  ;  information  con- 
cerning chronology  and  language  and  other  such  matters 
is  of  no  great  moment  if  we  do  not  really  feel  the  charm 
of  our  poet,  and  there  will  be  not  a  few  who  know  and 
love  their  Herrick,  who  really  care  but  little  for  such 
matters  as  are  apt  to  occupy  the  attention  of  the  scholar. 

Herrick  is  distinctively  a  poet  from  whom  to  receive 
pleasure.  He  is  not  necessarily  to  be  studied  ;  he  is  to 
be  enjoyed.  Doubtless  many  who  love  his  verses  will  be 
led  on  by  an  honorable  curiosity  to  desire  to  know  this 
and  that  concerning  the  man  and  his  work.  But  the 
poetic  enjoyment  is  the  main  thing.  Herrick  is  a  very 
individual  poet.  He  has  something  about  him  which 
lifts  him  out  of  the  crowd  of  Jacobean  and  Caroline 


INTRODUCTION. 

lyrists,  such  as  Carew  and  Suckling,  nor  do  we  think  of 
him  as  on  precisely  the  same  level  as  his  predecessors  the 
Elizabethans.  His  poems  have  a  certain  air  of  distinction. 
Many  of  them  are  trivial  enough,  doubtless,  but  they  are 
never  quite  commonplace.  Some  of  them  are  coarse,  but 
he  is  rarely  vulgar.  It  is  hard  precisely  to  define  his 
quality,  but  I  think  Mr.  Palgrave  has  come  the  nearest  to 
it.  Hard  to  define,  it  may  be,  but  not  I  think  hard  to  feel. 

True,  Herrick  is  not  to  be  called  a  poet  of  the  first 
order.  He  has  no  part  of  that  spiritual  insight  which 
perceives  axiomatic  reality  in  what  to  the  ordinary  mind 
was  a  blank  range  of  circumstances.  His  work  does  not 
inspire  and  uplift,  save  as  the  work  of  any  artist  inspires 
and  uplifts,  not  by  any  particular  enunciations,  but  by  its 
special  quality  of  absolute  expression.  He  deals  with 
simple  matters  in  a  very  simple  way,  —  it  is  his  perfection 
of  lyric  expression  that  has  made  so  many  of  his  poems 
masterpieces. 

Mr.  Coventry  Patmore,  in  speaking  of  the  intellect  and 
imagination  of  a  recent  poet,  calls  Herrick  a  "splendid 
insect."  *  It  will  probably  be  admitted  that  Herrick  is 
not  remarkable  for  his  powerful  intellect  nor  for  his 
quickening  imagination.  Perhaps  the  poet's  lovers  will 
not  so  willingly  incline  to  think  of  him  as  a  splendid 
insect.  Doubtless  he  has  little  enough  in  common  with 
certain  long-legged  fliers  of  gaudy  spottings  and  streak- 
ings,  nor  with  those  magnificent  but  amorphous-looking 
beetles  with  antler  mandibles,  nor  yet  with  the  venomous 
and  slim-waisted  varieties  with  which  we  have  sometimes 
come  in  contact.  But  an  entomologist  might  see  much 
resemblance  to  the  Phaneus  carnifex,  for  instance,  which 
burrs  about  among  the  South  American  flowers  in  subdued 
lustre  of  green  and  ruddy  gold,  whose  iridescence  comes 

1  Religio  Poetce,  p.  202. 


INTRODUCTION.  lxv 

not  from  any  superficial  pigment  but  from  the  very  nature 
of  his  being. 

And  yet  I  think  we  are  better  off  with  no  figure  of 
speech  between  ourselves  and  the  poet.  Whether  he  be 
the  riotous  young  fellow  in  London,  or  the  country  vicar 
in  his  first  enthusiasm  for  the  lovely  things  around  him, 
or  in  the  more  sober  days  of  his  later  life  he  always  has 
for  us  the  distinctive  character  of  the  artist,  his  own 
power  of  feeling  and  his  own  innate  discrimination,  and 
his  own  peculiar  process  of  distilling  from  the  great 
mixture  of  impressions  that  would  seem  common  to  all, 
the  drops  of  clear  quintessence,  aureate  and  fragrant. 


VII.     BIBLIOGRAPHY. 

Herrick's  poems  were  originally  published  in  1648,  just 
before  the  execution  of  Charles  I.  Then  came  the  Com- 
monwealth, the  Restoration,  and  the  Eighteenth  Century, 
during  all  which  time  no  second  edition  was  called  for ; 
and  indeed,  so  far  as  we  can  judge,  the  first  edition  was 
not  much  read.  Not  till  almost  the  beginning  of  the 
nineteenth  century  did  the  poet  begin  to  feel  the  first 
glow  of  that  immortality  he  had  so  often  promised  him- 
self. Those  were  the  charming  days  when  our  older  lit- 
erature was  in  a  sense  an  untrodden  field,  when  one  could 
turn  to  the  Elizabethans  and  to  Chaucer  with  the  fresh 
excitement  of  a  new  discoverer.  As  far  as  Herrick  was 
concerned,  Sylvanus  Urban  began  the  revival  in  1796 
and  1797,  followed  in  1804  by  Nathan  Drake  in  his  Lit- 
erary Jfours,  and  since  that  day  we  have  had  a  baker's 
dozen  of  "  Complete  Works,"  not  to  speak  of  the  volumes 
of  selections. 


Ixvi  INTRODUCTION. 

The  following  list  gives  all  the  editions  of  Herrick's 
complete  works  and  the  most  important  volumes  of  selec- 
tions. It  was  made  at  the  British  Museum,  and,  having 
compared  it  with  Dr.  Grosart's  (I,  vii-xi),  I  hope  that  it 
is  tolerably  complete  and  correct.  Besides  the  editions 
of  his  works  there  is  not  much  Herrick  literature,  and 
what  there  is  is  chiefly  periodical,  and  so  may  be  easily 
found  in  Poole's  Index.  A  few  remarks  on  the  chief  arti- 
cles are  added. 

[Editions  of  complete  works,  even  if  expurgated,  are  numbered 
i,  2,  3,  etc.  Volumes  of  selections  are  marked  A,  B,  C,  etc.  I  have 
not  thought  it  necessary  in  all  cases  to  give  the  complete  title.] 

1.  Hesperides:  or,  The  Works  both  Humane  and  Divine 
of  Robert  Herrick,  Esq.     Ovid,  Effugient  avidos  Car- 
mina  nostra  Rogos.     London.     Printed  for  John  Wil- 
liams and  Francis  Eglesfield.     1648. 

This  is  the  original  edition.  It  includes  both  the  Hesperides 
and  the  Noble  Numbers,  the  latter  with  a  separate  title-page, 
dated  1647,  and  separate  pagination. 

A.  Select  Poems  from  the  Hesperides :  with  remarks  by 
J.  Nott.     8vo.     Bristol,  1810. 

This  is  the  first  result  of  the  reawakened  interest  in  Herrick, 
and  the  means  of  much  of  the  subsequent  interest. 

2.  The  Works  of  Robert  Herrick.     Edited  with  a  Bio- 
graphical Notice  by  T.  Maitland.    2  vols.,  8vo.     Edin- 
burgh, 1823. 

B.  Selections   from   the    Hesperides,   etc.,  by   Charles 
Short.     London,  1839. 

3.  Hesperides,  or  Works  both  Human  and  Divine  of 
Robert  Herrick.     Edited  by  H.  G.  Clarke.    ,2  vols., 
i6mo.     London,  1844. 

Issued  in  Clarke's  Cabinet  Series. 


INTRODUCTION.  Ixvii 

4.  Hesperides,  or  Works  both  Human  and  Divine,  etc. 
With  a  Memoir  by  S.   W.   Singer.      8vo.      London, 
1846. 

Published  by  Pickering.     It  is  practically  the  same  as  2. 

C.     Selections  from  Herrick  for  Translation  into  Latin 
Verse  by  A.  J.  Macleane.     i6mo.     London,  1848. 

5,  6.     Dr.  Grosart  notes  that  "  other  complete  editions 

appeared  in  1850  and  1852  —  each  in  two  volumes." 
But  these  I  have  not  myself  seen. 

7.  Hesperides  ;     or,    the    Works    both    Humane    and 
Divine  of  Robert  Herrick,  Esq.    2  vols.,  8vo.    Boston, 
1856. 

This  is  Little  and  Brown's  revision  of  Pickering  (4). 

8.  The  Poetical  Works  of  Robert  Herrick.     With  a  Bio- 
graphical  Memoir  by  E.  Walford.      8vo.      London, 


9.  Hesperides:  Poems  and  other  Remains  of  Robert  Her- 
rick, now  first  collected.     Edited  by  W.  C.  Hazlitt. 
2  vols.     London,  1869. 

Here  were  first  collected  a  number  of  poems  by  Herrick  which 
did  not  appear  in  the  Hesperides  or  Noble  Numbers.  Hazlitt 
was  the  first  editor  to  get  much  beyond  what  had  been  done  by 
Maitland  and  Nott. 

10.  The  Complete  Poems  of  Robert  Herrick.     Edited 
by  Alexander  B.  Grosart,  D.D.    3  vols.,  8vo.    London, 
1876. 

This  edition  contains  an  elaborate  "  Memorial  Introduction," 
a  literatim  text,  copious  Notes,  and  a  "  Glossorial  Index."  It 
has  the  merits  and  faults  of  most  of  Dr.  Grosart's  work.  No 
student  of  Herrick  can  afford  to  neglect  it,  and  every  student 
who  uses  it  will  find  a  good  deal  to  disagree  with  and  a  good 
deal  that  will  annoy  him.  Dr.  Grosart's  work  is  not  distin- 
guished by  scholarly  accuracy,  or  by  critical  insight.  But  his 


Ixviii  INTRODUCTION. 

intimate  familiarity  with  the  literature  of  the  time,  his  untiring 
diligence,  and  his  warm  devotion  to  his  subject  have  made  his 
work  of  great  value.  In  spite  of  all  objections  his  edition  is  the 
standard. 

D.  Favorite  Poems  by  Robert  Herrick.    321110.    Boston, 
1877. 

This  contains  sixty-six  of  the  best-known  poems. 

E.  Chrysomela.     A  Selection  from  the  Lyrical  Poems 
of  Robert  Herrick,  arranged  with  notes  by  Francis 
Turner  Palgrave.     i6mo.     London,  1877. 

One  of  the  Golden  Treasury  Series.  Mr.  Palgrave's  gift  at 
making  selections  is  remarkable  and  well  known.  The  intro- 
duction is  far  and  away  the  best  criticism  on  Herrick  that  has 
been  written.  "  Herrick,"  says  Mr.  Palgrave,  "  is  the  best  com- 
mentator on  Herrick."  This  is  true  so  far  as  the  poems  them- 
selves are  concerned,  but  whoever  neglects  Mr.  Palgrave's  com- 
ment will  lose  what  in  its  own  way  is  equally  good.  He  considers 
chiefly  the  relation  of  Herrick  to  the  men  of  letters  of  his  own 
day  and  of  antiquity,  and  thus  comes  to  his  particular  charac- 
teristics. 

F.  Selections,  etc.     With  Illustrations  by  E.  A.  Abbey, 
and  a  Memoir  by  Austin  Dobson.     4to.     New  York, 
1882,  and  London,  1883. 

Both  memoir  and  illustrations  are  well  known  to  Herrick 
lovers. 

n.  Hesperides:  or  Works  both  Human  and  Divine  of 
Robert  Herrick.  With  an  Introduction  by  Henry 
Morley.  8vo.  London,  1883. 

This  is  the  volume  in  Morley's  Universal  Library.  It  gives  a 
text  (with  slight  expurgation)  and  puts  into  the  few  pages  of  in- 
troduction a  great  deal  that  is  good. 

G.  Herrick.     Edited  by  H.  P.  Home  in  the  Canterbury 
Poets.     i6mo.     London,  1887. 

The  Introduction  and  Notes  have  a  good  many  independent 
and  interesting  remarks  and  conjectures. 


INTRODUCTION.  Ixix 

12.  The  Hesperides  and  Noble  Numbers.     Edited  by 
Alfred  Pollard,  with  a  Preface  by  A.  C.  Swinburne, 
sm.  8vo.     London  and  New  York,  1891. 

This  edition  has  a  Life  by  Mr.  Pollard  and  Notes,  which  have 
been,  as  will  be  seen,  of  the  greatest  assistance  to  me.  Mr. 
Swinburne's  preface  is  slight,  but  has  a  number  of  suggestive 
remarks.  Mr.  Pollard's  work  is  the  most  thorough  that  has 
been  done  on  the  subject.  His  edition  does  not,  of  course,  in- 
clude all  that  is  of  value  in  Dr.  Grosart's,  but  he  goes  beyond 
Grosart  in  several  directions,  and  is  far  more  scholarly  and  accu- 
rate. The  chief  points  illustrated  by  his  Life  and  Notes  are 
Herrick's  friends,  Herrick's  reminiscences  of  the  classics,  and 
the  MS.  versions  of  Herrick's  poetry.  The  poems  are  here  for 
the  first  time  numbered,  and  the  numbering  has  been  followed 
in  the  present  selection,  although  I  have  been  unable  to  find  what 
poems  Mr.  Pollard  would  number  402  and  448.  "  This  number- 
ing," he  says  in  the  editor's  note,  "  renders  it  possible  to  print  the 
Epigrams  [v.  p.  xliv  foil.],  which  successive  editors  have  joined 
in  deploring,  in  a  detachable  appendix,  their  place  in  the  original 
being  indicated  by  the  numeration."  In  the  copy  which  I  have 
used  (and  I  suppose  in  the  rest  of  the  edition)  the  Appendix  is 
not  only  detachable  but  detached,  and  the  text  is  as  a  conse- 
quence expurgated.  In  this  particular  it  differs  somewhat  from 
n.  Mr.  Morley  omitted  whatever  he  considered  licentious,  and 
retained  much  that  most  people  would  consider  nasty.  Mr. 
Pollard  seems  to  have  omitted  what  was  nasty,  and  has  retained 
a  good  deal  that  is  licentious. 

Mr.  Pollard  gives  the  idea  of  one  confined  for  space.  It  is  a 
pity  that  he  could  not  have  taken  all  the  room  that  he  desired, 
for  he  would  then  have  made  what  might  well  stand  as  the  final 
edition  of  Herrick.  As  it  is,  his  edition  is,  within  its  limits,  far 
more  useful  than  Dr.  Grosart's. 

13.  The   poetical    works   of    Robert    Herrick.     Edited 
by   George    Saintsbury.       2    vols.,   12  mo.      London, 
1893. 

This  is  one  of  the  "  Aldine  Poets."  It  presents  a  good  text 
and  the  notes  have  been  minimised. 


Ixx  INTRODUCTION. 

The  chief  work  on  Herrick  has  been  done  by  his  edi- 
.  tors.  In  addition,  however,  to  the  introductions  to  the 
editions  mentioned,  the  following  articles  may  be  noted: 

Early  articles  by  "  Sylvan  us  Urban"  and  Nathan  Drake, 
as  above. 

In  the  Quarterly  Review  for  August,  1810,  and  the 
Retrospective  Review  for  August,  1822,  are  interesting 
articles,  the  first  containing  a  good  deal  of  information 
about  Herrick's  Devonshire  surroundings,  and  the  latter 
distinguished  by  the  taste  of  its  selections  and  its  critical 
remarks. 

Edmund  Gosse:  Robert  Herrick.  In  Seventeenth  Cen- 
tury Studies,  2d  ed.,  London,  1885.  With  this  it  is 
well  to  read  Mr.  Gosse's  Introduction  to  the  selections 
from  Herrick  in  Ward's  English  Poets  (4  vols.,  8vo,  Lon- 
don and  New  York,  1881),  vol.  ii,  pp.  124-129.  I  have 
had  occasion  to  differ  from  some  of  Mr.  Gosse's  conclu- 
sions, but  the  essay  is  one  of  the  best  things  on  the  sub- 
ject, and  should  certainly  be  read  by  any  one  interested. 
It  was  first  published  in  the  Cornhill  Magazine. 

By  the  present  editor:  Die  chronologische  Anordnung 
der  Dichtungen  Robert  Herricks.  Halle  a.  S.,  1892.  This 
is  a  study  made  with  a  view  of  ascertaining  the  principles 
that  must  obtain  in  any  attempt  to  draw  inferences  from 
Herrick's  poetry  concerning  Herrick's  life. 

Alfred  Pollard:  The  Friends  of  Herrick.  Macmillan's 
Magazine,  August,  1893.  Presents  more  fully  than  it 
was  possible  in  his  edition  the  results  of  Mr.  Pollard's 
studies  on  the  persons  alluded  to  in  the  Hesperides.  In 
this  direction  Mr.  Pollard  is  chief  authority,  and  his  work 
cannot  be  neglected. 


A.  SELECTION 


HESPERIDES 


THE   WORKS    BOTH    HUMAN    AND    DIVINE 


ROBERT  HERRICK. 


To  THE  MOST  ILLUSTRIOUS  AND  MOST  HOPEFUL    PRINCE, 

CHARLES, 
PRINCE  OF  WALES. 

WELL  may  my  book  come  forth  like  public  day, 
When  such  a  light  as  You  are  leads  the  way, 
Who  are  my  work's  creator  and  alone 
The  flame  of  it  and  the  expansion. 
And  look  how  all  those  heavenly  lamps  acquire 
Light  from  the  sun,  that  inexhausted  fire  : 
So  all  my  morn  and  evening  stars  from  You 
Have  their  existence,  and  their  influence  too. 
Full  is  my  book  of  glories  ;  but  all  these 
By  You  become  immortal  substances. 


HESPERIDES. 


i.     THE   ARGUMENT   OF   HIS    BOOK. 

I  SING  of  brooks,  of  blossoms,  birds  and  bowers, 

Of  April,  May,  of  June,  and  July-flowers  ; 

I  sing  of  may-poles,  hock-carts,  wassails,  wakes, 

Of  bridegrooms,  brides,  and  of  their  bridal-cakes; 

I  write  of  youth,  of  love,  and  have  access 

By  these,  to  sing  of  cleanly  wantonness  ; 

I  sing  of  dews,  of  rains,  and  piece  by  piece, 

Of  balm,  of  oil,  of  spice,  and  amber-greece  ; 

I  sing  of  times  trans-shifting  ;  and  I  write 

How  roses  first  came  red,  and  lilies  white. 

I  write  of  groves,  of  twilights,  and  I  sing 

The  court  of  Mab  and  of  the  Fairie  King. 

I  write  of  Hell  ;  I  sing,  and  ever  shall, 

Of  Heaven,  and  hope  to  have  it  after  all. 

2.     TO   HIS    MUSE. 

WHITHER,  mad  maiden,  wilt  thou  roam  ? 
Far  safer  'twere  to  stay  at  home  ; 
Where  thou  may'st  sit,  and  piping  please 
The  poor  and  private  cottages, 
Since  coats  and  hamlets  best  agree 
With  this  thy  meaner  minstrelsy. 
There  with  the  reed  thou  may'st  express 
The  shepherd's  fleecy  happiness, 
And  with  thy  Eclogues  intermix 
Some  smooth  and  harmless  Bucolics. 


HESPERIDES. 

There,  on  a  hillock,  thou  may'st  sing 

Unto  a  handsome  shepherdling, 

Or  to  a  girl,  that  keeps  the  neat, 

With  breath  more  sweet  than  violet. 

There,  there,  perhaps,  such  lines  as  these  15 

May  take  the  simple  villages. 

But  for  the  court,  the  country  wit 

Is  despicable  unto  it. 

Stay  then  at  home,  and  do  not  go 

Or  fly  abroad  to  seek  for  woe.  2° 

Contempts  in  courts  and  cities  dwell ; 

No  critic  haunts  the  poor  man's  cell, 

Where  thou  may'st  hear  thine  own  lines  read, 

By  no  one  tongue  there  censured. 

That  man's  unwise  will  search  for  ill,  25 

And  may  prevent  it  sitting  still. 

3.     TO   HIS   BOOK. 

WHILE  thou  didst  keep  thy  candor  undefiFd 

Dearly  I  lov'd  thee,  as  my  first-born  child  ; 

But  when  I  saw  thee  wantonly  to  roam 

From  house  to  house,  and  never  stay  at  home, 

I  brake  my  bonds  of  love  and  bade  thee  go,  5 

Regardless  whether  well  thou  sped'st  or  no. 

On  with  thy  fortunes  then,  whate'er  they  be  ; 

If  good  I'll  smile,  if  bad  I'll  sigh  for  thee. 

8.     WHEN   HE   WOULD   HAVE    HIS   VERSES  READ. 

IN  sober  mornings  do  not  thou  rehearse 

The  holy  incantation  of  a  verse  ; 

But  when  that  men  have  both  well  drunk  and  fed, 

Let  my  enchantments  then  be  sung  or  read. 


HESPERIDES.  5 

When  laurel  spirts  i'th'  fire,  and  when  the  hearth  5 

Smiles  to  itself,  and  gilds  the  roof  with  mirth  ; 

When  up  the  thyrse  is  rais'd,  and  when  the  sound 

Of  sacred  orgies  flies  around,  around  ; 

When  the  rose  reigns,  and  locks  with  ointments  shine, 

Let  rigid  Cato  read  these  lines  of  mine.  10 

12.     NO   BASHFULNESS    IN   BEGGING. 

To  get  thine  ends,  lay  bashfulness  aside  ; 
Who  fears  to  ask,  doth  teach  to  be  deny'd. 

14.     TO   PERILLA. 

AH,  my  Perilla  !  do'st  thou  grieve  to  see 
Me,  day  by  day,  to  steal  away  from  thee  ? 
Age  calls  me  hence,  and  my  grey  hairs  bid  come 
And  haste  away  to  mine  eternal  home  ; 
'Twill  not  be  long,  Perilla,  after  this,  5 

That  I  must  give  thee  the  supremest  kiss  : 
Dead  when  I  am,  first  cast  in  salt,  and  bring 
Part  of  the  cream  from  that  religious  spring  ; 
With  which,  Perilla,  wash  my  hands  and  feet ; 
That  done,  then  wind  me  in  that  very  sheet  10 

Which  wrapt  thy  smooth  limbs,  when  thou  didst  implore 
The  gods'  protection  but  the  night  before, 
Follow  me  weeping  to  my  turf,  and  there 
Let  fall  a  primrose,  and  with  it  a  tear : 
Then  lastly,  let  some  weekly-stre wings  be  *5 

4Devoted  to  the  memory  of  me  ; 
Then  shall  my  ghost  not  walk  about,  but  keep 
Still  in  the  cool  and  silent  shades  of  sleep. 


HESPERIDES. 


22.     TO   ANTHEA. 

IF,  dear  Anthea,  my  hard  fate  it  be 
To  live  some  few  sad  howers  after  thee, 
Thy  sacred  corse  with  odors  I  will  burn, 
And  with  my  laurel  crown  thy  golden  urn. 
Then  holding  up  there  such  religious  things 
As  were  (time  past)  thy  holy  filletings 
Near  to  thy  reverend  pitcher  I  will  fall 
Down  dead  for  grief,  and  end  my  woes  withal 
So  three  in  one  small  plat  of  ground  shall  lie, 
Anthea,  Herrick,  and  his  poetry. 


23.     THE   WEEPING   CHERRY. 

•    I  SAW  a  cherry  weep,  and  why  ? 

Why  wept  it  ?     But  for  shame 
Because  my  Julia's  lip  was  by, 

And  did  out-red  the  same. 
But,  pretty  fondling,  let  not  fall 

A  tear  at  all  for  that 
Which  rubies,  corals,  scarlets,  all 

For  tincture,  wonder  at. 

25.     THE    DIFFERENCE    BETWIXT    KINGS    AND 
SUBJECTS. 

'Twixx  kings  and  subjects  there's  this  mighty  odds  : 
Subjects  are  taught  by  men  ;  kings,  by  the  gods. 

29.     LOVE,   WHAT   IT   IS. 

LOVE  is  a  circle,  that  doth  restless  move 
In  the  same  sweet  eternity  of  love. 


HESPERIDES.  7 

32.  THE  POMANDER  BRACELET. 

To  me  my  Julia  lately  sent 

A  bracelet,  richly  redolent ; 

The  beads  I  kiss'd,  but  most  lov'd  her 

That  did  perfume  the  pomander. 

35.     HIS    SAILING    FROM   JULIA. 

WHEN  that  day  comes,  whose  evening  says  I'm  gone 

Unto  that  wat'ry  desolation, 

Devoutly  to  thy  closet-gods  then  pray, 

That  my  wing'd  ship  may  meet  no  remora. 

Those  deities  which  circum-walk  the  seas,  5 

And  look  upon  our  dreadful  passages, 

Will  from  all  dangers  re-deliver  me 

For  one  drink-offering  poured  out  by  thee. 

Mercy  and  Truth  live  with  thee  !  and  forbear, 

In  my  short  absence,  to  unsluice  a  tear ;  10 

But  yet,  for  love's  sake,  let  thy  lips  do  this, 

Give  my  dead  picture  one  engend'ring  kiss  ; 

Work  that  to  life,  and  let  me  ever  dwell 

In  thy  remembrance,  Julia.     So  farewell. 

36.     HOW   THE   WALL-FLOWER  CAME  FIRST,  AND 
WHY    SO   CALLED. 

WHY  this  flower  is  now  call'd  so, 

List',  sweet  maids,  and  you  shall  know. 

Understand,  this  firstling  was 

Once  a  brisk  and  bonny  lass, 

Kept  as  close  as  Danae  was  ;  5 

Who  a  sprightly  springall  lov'd, 

And  to  have  it  fully  prov'd, 

Up  she  got  upon  a  wall, 

Tempting  down  to  slide  withal ; 


8  HESl^ERIDES. 

But  the  silken  twist  untied,  10 

So  she  fell ;  and  bruis'd,  she  died. 

Love,  in  pity  of  the  deed, 

And  her  loving-luckless  speed, 

Turn'd  her  to  this  plant,  we  call 

Now  The  Flower  of  the  Wall.  15 

39.     UPON   THE   LOSS   OF   HIS   MISTRESSES. 

I  HAVE  lost,  and  lately,  these 

Many  dainty  mistresses  : 

Stately  Julia,  prime  of  all ; 

Sapho  next,  a  principal  ; 

Smooth  Anthea,  for  a  skin  5 

White  and  heaven-like  crystalline  ; 

Sweet  Electra,  and  the  choice 

Myrha,  for  the  lute  and  voice. 

Next,  Corinna,  for  her  wit,  • 

And  the  graceful  use  of  it  ;  10 

With  Perilla  :  all  are  gone, 

Only  Herrick's  left  alone, 

For  to  number  sorrow  by 

Their  departures  hence,  and  die. 

47.     THE   PARC^E  ;    OR,   THREE   DAINTY    DESTINIES. 
THE   ARMILET. 

THREE  lovely  sisters  working  were, 

As  they  were  closely  set, 
Of  soft  and  dainty  maiden-hair, 

A  curious  Armilet. 
I,  smiling,  ask'd  them  what  they  did,  5 

Fair  destinies  all  three, 
Who  told  me  they  had  drawn  a  thread 

Of  life,  and  'twas  for  me. 


HESPERIDES. 

They  showed  me  then  how  fine  'twas  spun  : 

And  I  reply'd  thereto, 
I  care  not  now  how  soon  'tis  done, 

Or  cut,  if  cut  by  you. 

50.     TO   ROBIN   REDBREAST. 

LAID  out  for  dead,  let  thy  last  kindness  be 
With  leaves  and  moss-work  for  to  cover  me  ; 
And  while  the  wood-nymphs  my  cold  corpse  inter, 
Sing  thou  my  dirge,  sweet-warbling  chorister. 
For  epitaph,  in  foliage  next  write  this  : 
Here,  here  the  tomb  of  Robin  Herrick  is  ! 

51.     DISCONTENTS    IN   DEVON. 

MORE  discontents  I  never  had, 

Since  I  was  born,  than  here  ; 
Where  I  have  been,  and  still  am  sad, 

In  this  dull  Devonshire. 
Yet,  justly  too,  I  must  confess, 

I  ne'er  invented  such 
Ennobled  numbers  for  the  press, 

Than  where  I  loath'd  so  much. 

53.     CHERRY-RIPE. 

CHERRY-RIPE,  ripe,  ripe,  I  cry, 
Full  and  fair  ones ;  come  and  buy ; 
If  so  be  you  ask  me  where 
They  do  grow?     I  answer,  there, 
Where  my  Julia's  lips  do  smile ; 
There's  the  land  or  cherry-isle, 
Whose  plantations  fully  show 
All  the  year  where  cherries  grow. 


10  HESPERIDES. 

54.     TO    HIS   MISTRESSES. 

PUT  up  your  silks,  and  piece  by  piece, 

Give  them  the  scent  of  amber-greece ; 

And  for  your  breaths,  too,  let  them  smell 

Ambrosia-like,  or  nectarel ; 

While  other  gums  their  sweets  perspire,  5 

By  your  own  jewels  set  on  fire. 

55.     TO   ANTHEA. 

Now  is  the  time  when  all  the  lights  wax  dim, 

And  thou,  Anthea,  must  withdraw  from  him 

Who  was  thy  servant.     Dearest,  bury  me 

Under  that  Holy-oak  or  Gospel-tree  ; 

Where,  though  thou  see'st  not,  thou  may'st  think  upon    5 

Me,  when  thou  yearly  go'st  procession  ; 

Or,  for  mine  honor,  lay  me  in  that  tomb 

In  which  thy  sacred  reliques  shall  have  room  ; 

For  my  embalming,  sweetest,  there  will  be 

No  spices  wanting  when  I'm  laid  by  thee.  10 

57.     DREAMS. 

HERE  we  are  all  by  day  ;  by  night  w'are  hurl'd 
By  dreams,  each  one  into  a  sev'ral  world. 

58.     AMBITION. 

IN  man,  ambition  is  the  common'st  thing ; 
Each  one  by  nature  loves  to  be  a  king. 

59.     HIS    REQUEST   TO   JULIA. 

JULIA,  if  I  chance  to  die 
Ere  I  print  my  poetry, 


HESPERIDES.  11 

I  most  humbly  thee  desire 

To  commit  it  to  the  fire ; 

Better  'twere  my  book  were  dead,  5 

Than  to  live  not  perfected. 

67.     UPON   JULIA'S   VOICE. 

So  smooth,  so  sweet,  so  silv'ry  is  thy  voice, 
As,  could  they  hear,  the  damn'd  would  make  no  noise, 
But  listen  to  thee,  walking  in  thy  chamber, 
Melting  melodious  words  to  lutes  of  amber. 

70.     THE   SUCCESSION   OF  THE   FOUR   SWEET 
MONTHS. 

FIRST,  April,  she  with  mellow  showers 

Opens  the  way  for  early  flowers  ; 

Then  after  her  comes  smiling  May, 

In  a  more  rich  and  sweet  array ; 

Next  enters  June,  and  brings  us  more  5 

Gems  than  those  two  that  went  before ; 

Then,  lastly,  July  comes,  and  she 

More  wealth  brings  in  than  all  those  three. 

77.     TO    THE    KING,    UPON    HIS    COMING    WITH    HIS 
ARMY    INTO   THE    WEST. 

WELCOME,  most  welcome  to  our  vows  and  us, 

Most  great  and  universal  genius  ! 

The  drooping  West,  which  hitherto  has  stood 

As  one,  in  long-lamented  widowhood, 

Looks  like  a  bride  now,  or  a  bed  of  flowers,  5 

Newly  refresh'd  both  by  the  sun  and  showers. 

War,  which  before  was  horrid,  now  appears 

Lovely  in  you,  brave  Prince  of  Cavaliers  ! 


12  HESPERIDES. 

A  deal  of  courage  in  each  bosom  springs 

By  your  access,  O  you  the  best  of  Kings !  10 

Ride  on  with  all  white  omens,  so  that  where 

Your  standard's  up,  we  fix  a  conquest  there. 

82.  TO  THE  REVEREND  SHADE  OF  HIS  RELIGIOUS 
FATHER. 

THAT  for  seven  lustres  I  did  never  come 

To  do  the  rites  to  thy  religious  tomb  ; 

That  neither  hair  was  cut,  or  true  tears  shed 

By  me  o'er  thee,  as  justments  to  the  dead ; 

Forgive,  forgive  me  ;  since  I  did  not  know  5 

Whether  thy  bones  had  here  their  rest  or  no. 

But  now  'tis  known,  behold,  behold,  I  bring 

Unto  thy  ghost  th'  effused  offering ; 

And  look,  what  smallage,  nightshade,  cypress,  yew, 

Unto  the  shades  have  been,  or  now  are  due,  10 

Here  I  devote  ;  and  something  more  than  so, 

I  come  to  pay  a  debt  of  birth  I  owe. 

Thou  gav'st  me  life,  but  mortal ;  for  that  one 

Favour  I'll  make  full  satisfaction  ; 

For  my  life  mortal,  rise  from  out  thy  hearse,  15 

And  take  a  life  immortal  from  my  verse. 

83.     DELIGHT    IN   DISORDER. 

A  SWEET  disorder  in  the  dress 

Kindles  in  clothes  a  wantonness  ; 

A  lawn  about  the  shoulders  thrown 

Into  a  fine  distraction  ; 

An  erring  lace,  which  here  and  there  5 

Enthrals  the  crimson  stomacher ; 

A  cuff  neglectful,  and  thereby 

Ribbands  to  flow  confusedly  ; 


HESPERIDES.  13 

A  winning  wave,  deserving  note, 

In  the  tempestuous  petticoat ;  *° 

A  careless  shoe-string,  in  whose  tie  « 

I  see  a  wild  civility ; 

Do  more  bewitch  me,  than  when  art 

Is  too  precise  in  every  part. 

86.     TO  DEAN-BOURN,  A  RUDE  RIVER  IN  DEVON,  BY 
WHICH    SOMETIMES    HE   LIVED. 

DEAN-BOURN,  farewell ;  I  never  look  to  see 

Dean  or  thy  wat'ry  incivility ; 

Thy  rocky  bottom,  that  doth  tear  thy  streams 

And  makes  them  frantic  ev'n  to  all  extremes, 

To  my  content  I  never  should  behold,  5 

Were  thy  streams  silver,  or  thy  rocks  all  gold. 

Rocky  thou  art ;  and  rocky  we  discover 

Thy  men,  and  rocky  are  thy  ways  all  over. 

O  men,  O  manners ;  there,  and  ever  known 

To  be  a  rocky  generation  !  J° 

A  people  currish,  churlish  as  the  seas, 

And  rude  almost  as  rudest  salvages. 

With  whom  I  did,  and  may  re-sojourn  when 

Rocks  turn  to  rivers,  rivers  turn  to  men. 

88.     TO   JULIA. 

How  rich  and  pleasing  thou,  my  Julia,  art 

In  each  thy  dainty  and  peculiar  part ! 

First,  for  thy  queenship,  on  thy  head  is  set 

Of  flowers  a  sweet  commingled  coronet ; 

About  thy  neck  a  carcanet  is  bound,  5 

Made  of  the  ruby,  pearl,  and  diamond ; 

A  golden  ring,  that  shines  upon  thy  thumb ; 

About  thy  wrist  the  rich  Dardanium ; 


14  HESPERIDES. 

Between  thy  breasts,  than  down  of  swans  more  white, 
There  plays  the  sapphire  with  the  chrysolite. 
No  part  besides  must  of  thyself  be  known, 
But  by  the  topaz,  opal,  chalcedon. 

89.     TO   LAURELS. 

A  FUNERAL  stone 

Or  verse,  I  covet  none ; 

But  only  crave 
Of  you  that  I  may  have 
A  sacred  laurel  springing  from  my  grave, 

Which  being  seen 
Blest  with  perpetual  green, 

May  grow  to  be 
Not  so  much  call'd  a  tree 
As  the  eternal  monument  of  me. 

90.     HIS    CAVALIER. 

GIVE  me  that  man  that  dares  bestride 
The  active  sea-horse,  and  with  pride 
Through  that  huge  field  of  waters  ride: 

Who,  with  his  looks,  too,  can  appease 
The  ruffling  winds  and  raging  seas, 
In  midst  of  all  their  outrages  : 

This,  this  a  virtuous  man  can  do, 
Sail  against  rocks,  and  split  them  too ; 
Ay,  and  a  world  of  pikes  pass  through. 

97.     DUTY   TO   TYRANTS. 

GOOD  princes  must  be  pray'd  for ;  for  the  bad 
They  must  be  borne  with,  and  in  rev'rence  had. 
Do  they  first  pill  thee,  next  pluck  off  thy  skin  ? 
Good  children  kiss  the  rods  that  punish  sin. 


HESPERIDES.  15 

Touch  not  the  tyrant,  let  the  gods  alone  5 

To  strike  him  dead  that  but  usurps  a  throne. 

106.     A   COUNTRY    LIFE:    TO    HIS    BROTHER, 
M.   THO:    HERRICK. 

THRICE,  and  above,  bless'd,  my  soul's  half,  art  thou, 

In  thy  both  last  and  better  vow. 
Could'st  leave  the  city,  for  exchange,  to  see 

The  country's  sweet  simplicity, 
And  it  to  know  and  practise,  with  intent  5 

To  grow  the  sooner  innocent 
By  studying  to  know  virtue,  and  to  aim 

More  at  her  nature  than  her  name. 
The  last  is  but  the  least,  the  first  doth  tell 

Ways  less  to  live  than  to  live  well ;  10 

And  both  are  known  to  thee,  who  now  can'st  live, 

Led  by  thy  conscience,  to  give 
Justice  to  soon-pleas'd  nature,  and  to  show 

Wisdom  and  she  together  go, 
And  keep  one  centre;  this  with  that  conspires  15 

To  teach  man  to  confine  desires, 
And  know  that  riches  have  their  proper  stint 

In  the  contented  mind,  not  mint ; 
And  can'st  instruct  that  those  who  have  the  itch 

Of  craving  more  are  never  rich.  20 

These  things  thou  know'st  to  th'  height,  and  dost  prevent 

That  plague,  because  thou  art  content 
With  that  Heav'n  gave  thee  with  a  wary  hand 

(More  blessed  in  thy  brass  than  land) 
To  keep  cheap  Nature  even  and  upright,  25 

To  cool,  not  cocker  appetite. 
Thus  thou  canst  tersely  live  to  satisfy 

The  belly  chiefly,  not  the  eye ; 


16  HESPERIDES. 

Keeping  the  barking  stomach  wisely  quiet, 

Less  with  a  neat  than  needful  diet.  30 

But  that  which  most  makes  sweet  thy  country  life 

Is  the  fruition  of  a  wife, 
Whom,  stars  consenting  with  thy  fate,  thou  hast 

Got  not  so  beautiful  as  chaste ; 
By  whose  warm  side  thou  dost  securely  sleep,  35 

While  love  the  sentinel  doth  keep, 
With  those  deeds  done  by  day  which  ne'er  affright 

Thy  silken  slumbers  in  the  night. 
Nor  has  the  darkness  power  to  usher  in 

Fear  to  those  sheets  that  know  no  sin.  40 

The  damask'd  meadows  and  the  pebbly  streams 

Sweeten  and  make  soft  your  dreams ; 
The  purling  springs,  groves,  birds,  and  well  weav'd  bowers,  45 

With  fields  enamelled  with  flowers, 
Present  their  shapes,  while  fantasy  discloses 

Millions  of  lilies  mix'd  with  roses. 
Then  dream  ye  hear  the  lamb  by  many  a  bleat 

Woo'd  to  come  suck  the  milky  teat,  ,  50 

While  Faunus  in  the  vision  comes  to  keep 

From  rav'ning  wolves  the  fleecy  sheep, 
With  thousand  such  enchanting  dreams  that  meet 

To  make  sleep  not  so  sound  as  sweet ; 
Nor  can  these  figures  so  thy  rest  endear,  55 

As  not  to  rise  when  Chanticleer 
Warns  the  last  watch,  but  with  the  dawn  dost  rise 

To  work,  but  first  to  sacrifice  ; 
Making  thy  peace  with  Heav'n  for  some  late  fault, 

With  holy-meal  and  spirting  salt ;  60 

Which  done,  thy  painful  thumb  this  sentence  tells  us, 

Jove  for  our  labor  all  things  sells  us. 
Nor  are  thy  daily  and  devout  affairs, 

Attended  with  those  desp'rate  cares 


HESPERIDES.  17 

Th'  industrious  merchant  has,  who  for  to  find  65 

Gold,  runneth  to  the  Western  Inde, 
And  back  again,  tortur'd  with  fears,  doth  fly, 

Untaught  to  suffer  poverty. 
But  thou  at  home,  bless'd  with  securest  ease, 

Sitt'st,  and  believ'st  that  there  be  seas  70 

And  wat'ry  dangers,  while  thy  whiter  hap 

But  sees  these  things  within  thy  map  ; 
And  viewing  them  with  a  more  safe  survey 

Mak'st  easy  fear  unto  thee  say, 
A  heart  thrice  walVd  with  oak  and  brass  that  man  75 

Had,  first  durst  plough  the  ocean. 
But  thou  at  home,  without  or  tide  or  gale, 

Canst  in  thy  map  securely  sail, 
Seeing  those  painted  countries,  and  so  guess 

By  those  fine  shades  their  substances  ;  80 

And,  from  thy  compass  taking  small  advice, 

Buy'st  travel  at  the  lowest  price. 
Nor  are  thine  ears  so  deaf  but  thou  canst  hear, 

Far  more  with  wonder  than  with  fear, 
Fame  tell  of  states,  of  countries,  courts,  and  kings,  85 

And  believe  there  be  such  things, 
When  of  these  truths  thy  happier  knowledge  lies 

More  in  thine  ears  than  in  thine  eyes. 
And  when  thou  hear'st  by  too  true  report, 

Vice  rules  the  most  or  all  at  court,  9° 

Thy  pious  wishes  are,  though  thou  not  there, 

Virtue  had,  and  mov'd  her  sphere. 
But  thou  liv'st  fearless ;  and  thy  face  ne'er  shows 

Fortune  when  she  comes  or  goes, 
But,  with  thy  equal  thoughts,  prepar'd  dost  stand  95 

To  take  her  by  the  either  hand ; 
Nor  car'st  which  comes  the  first,  the  foul  or  fair. 

A  wise  man  ev'ry  way  lies  square; 


18 

And  like  a  surly  oak  with  storms  perplex'd, 

Grows  still  the  stronger,  strongly  vex'd.  100 

Be  so,  bold  spirit ;  stand  centre-like  unmov'd ; 

And  be  not  only  thought  but  prov'd 
To  be  what  I  report  thee,  and  inure 

Thyself,  if  want  comes,  to  endure. 
And  so  thou  dost ;  for  thy  desires  are  105 

Confin'd  to  live  with  private  Lar, 
Nor  curious  whether  appetite  be  fed 

Or  with  the  first  or  second  bread. 
Who  keep'st  no  proud  mouth  for  delicious  cates 

(Hunger  makes  coarse  meats  delicates)  no 

Canst,  and  unurg'd,  forsake  that  larded  fare, 

Which  art,  not  nature  makes  so  rare ; 
To  taste  boil'd  nettles,  coleworts,  beets,  and  eat 

These  and  sour  herbs  as  dainty  meat, 
While  soft  opinion  makes  thy  Genius  say,  115 

Content  makes  all  ambrosia. 
Nor  is  it  that  thou  keep'st  this  stricter  size 

So  much  for  want  as  exercise  ; 
To  numb  the  sense  of  dearth,  which,  should  sin  haste  it, 

Thou  might' st  but  only  see  't,  not  taste  it.  120 

Yet  can  thy  humble  roof  maintain  a  quire 

Of  singing  crickets  by  thy  fire  ; 
And  the  brisk  mouse  may  feast  herself  with  crumbs, 

Till  that  the  green-ey'd  kitling  comes ; 
Then  to  her  cabin,  bless'd  she  can  escape  125 

The  sudden  danger  of  a  rape. 
And  thus  thy  little  well-kept  stock  doth  prove, 

Wealth  cannot  make  a  life,  but  love. 
Nor  art  thou  so  close-handed,  but  can'st  spend 

(Counsel  concurring  with  the  end)  130 

As  well  as  spare ;  still  conning  o'er  this  theme, 

To  shun  the  first  and  last  extreme ; 


tTESPERIDES.  19 

Ordaining  that  thy  small  stock  find  no  breach, 

Or  to  exceed  thy  tether's  reach, 
But  to  live  round,  and  close,  and  wisely  true  135 

To  thine  own  self,  and  known  to  few. 
Thus  let  thy  rural  sanctuary  be 

Elisium  to  thy  wife  and  thee ; 
There  to  disport  yourselves  with  golden  measure : 

For  seldom  use  commends  the  pleasure.  140 

Live,  and  live  bless'd,  thrice  happy  pair ;  let  breath, 

But  lost  to  one,  be  th'other's  death. 
And  as  there  is  one  love,  one  faith,  one  troth, 

Be  so  one  death,  one  grave  to  both. 
Till  when,  in  such  assurance,  live  ye  may,  145 

Nor  fear  or  wish  your  dying  day. 

no.     UPON    FONE,   A   SCHOOLMASTER.     EPIG. 

FONE  says,  those  mighty  whiskers  he  does  wear 
Are  twigs  of  birch  and  willow  growing  there ; 
If  so,  we'll  think,  too,  when  he  does  condemm 
Boys  to  the  lash,  that  he  does  whip  with  them. 

in.     A   LYRIC    TO   MIRTH. 

WHILE  the  milder  fates  consent, 

Let's  enjoy  our  merriment ; 

Drink,  and  dance,  and  pipe,  and  play, 

Kiss  our  dollies  night  and  day; 

Crown'd  with  clusters  of  the  vine,  5 

Let  us  sit  and  quaff  our  wine ; 

Call  on  Bacchus,  chant  his  praise, 

Shake  the  thyrse  and  bite  the  bays ; 

Rouse  Anacreon  from  the  dead, 

And  return  him  drunk  to  bed ;  10 


20  HESPERIDES. 

Sing  o'er  Horace  ;  for  ere  long 
Death  will  come  and  mar  the  song ; 
Then  shall  Wilson  and  Gotiere 
Never  sing  or  play  more  here. 

114.     UPON   JULIA'S    RIBBAND. 

As  shows  the  air  when  with  a  rainbow  grac'd, 
So  smiles  that  ribband  'bout  my  Julia's  waist ; 
Or  like —         Nay,  'tis  that  zonulet  of  love 
Wherein  all  pleasures  of  the  world  are  wove. 

123.     THE   TEAR   SENT   TO   HER   FROM    STAINES. 
[This  poem  and  122  are  addressed  to  Mrs.  Dorothy  Keneday.] 

GLIDE,  gentle  streams,  and  bear 
Along  with  you  my  tear 

To  that  coy  girl, 

Who  smiles  yet  slays 

Me  with  delays,  5 

And  strings  my  tears  as  pearl. 

See,  see,  she's  yonder  set, 
Making  a  carcanet 

Of  maiden  flowers ! 

There,  there  present  10 

This  orient 
And  pendent  pearl  of  ours. 

Then  say  I've  sent  one  more 
Gem  to  enrich  her  store ; 

And  that  is  all  15 

Which  I  can  send, 

Or  vainly  spend, 
For  tears  no  more  will  fall. 


HESPERIDES.  21 

Nor  will  I  seek  supply 

Of  them,  the  spring's  once  dry ;  20 

But  I'll  devise, 

Among  the  rest, 

A  way  that's  best 
How  I  may  save  mine  eyes. 

Yet  say,  should  she  condemn  25 

Me  to  surrender  them  ; 

Then  say,  my  part 

Must  be  to  weep 

Out  them,  to  keep 
A  poor,  yet  loving  heart.  30 

Say,  too,  she  would  have  this ; 
She  shall.    Then  my  hope  is, 

That  when  I'm  poor, 

And  nothing  have 

To  send  or  save,  35 

I'm  sure  she'll  ask  no  more. 


128.     HIS    FAREWELL  TO   SACK. 

FAREWELL,  thou  thing,  time  past  so  known,  so  dear 

To  me,  as  blood  to  life  and  spirit.     Near, 

Nay,  thou  more  near  than  kindred,  friend,  man,  wife, 

Male  to  the  female,  soul  to  body.     Life 

To  quick  action,  or  the  warm  soft  side 

Of  the  resigning,  yet  resisting  bride. 

These,  and  a  thousand  sweets,  could  never  be 

So  near  or  dear  as  thou  wast  once  to  me. 

O,  thou  the  drink  of  gods  and  angels !    wine 

That  scatter'st  spirit  and  lust ;  whose  purest  shine, 

More  radiant  than  the  summer's  sunbeams  shows, 

Each  way  illustrious,  brave,  and  like  to  those 


22  HESPERIDES. 

Comets  we  see  by  night,  whose  shagg'd  portents  15 

Foretell  the  coming  of  some  dire  events ; 

Or  some  full  flame,  which  with  a  pride  aspires, 

Throwing  about  his  wild  and  active  fires. 

'Tis  thou,  above  nectar,  O  divinest  soul ! 

Eternal  in  thyself,  that  canst  control  20 

That  which  subverts  whole  Nature,  grief  and  care, 

Vexation  of  the  mind,  and  damn'd  despair. 

'Tis  thou  alone,  who,  with  thy  mystic  fan, 

Work'st  more  than  Wisdom,  Art,  or  Nature  can, 

To  rouse  the  sacred  madness,  and  awake  25 

The  frost-bound  blood  and  spirits,  and  to  make 

Them  frantic  with  thy  raptures,  flashing  through 

The  soul  like  lightning,  and  as  active  too. 

'Tis  not  Apollo  can,  or  those  thrice  three 

Castalian  sisters  sing,  if  wanting  thee.  30 

Horace,  Anacreon,  both  had  lost  their  fame, 

Hadst  thou  not  fill'd  them  with  thy  fire  and  flame. 

Phcebean  splendor  !  and  thou,  Thespian  spring  ! 

Of  which  sweet  swans  must  drink  before  they  sing 

Their  true-pac'd  numbers  and  their  holy  lays,  35 

Which  makes  them  worthy  cedar  and  the  bays. 

But  why,  why  longer  do  I  gaze  upon 

Thee  with  the  eye  of  admiration? 

Since  I  must  leave  thee,  and  enforc'd  must  say, 

To  all  thy  witching  beauties,  Go,  away !  40 

But  if  thy  whimp'ring  looks  do  ask  me  why? 

Then  know  that  Nature  bids  thee  go,  not  I. 

'Tis  her  erroneous  self  has  made  a  brain 

Uncapable  of  such  a  sovereign, 

As  is  thy  powerful  self.     Prithee,  not  smile,  45 

Or  smile  more  inly,  lest  thy  looks  beguile 

My  vows  denounc'd  in  zeal,  which  thus  much  show  thee 

That  I  have  sworn  but  by  thy  looks  to  know  thee. 


HESPERIDES.  23 

Let  others  drink  thee  freely,  and  desire 

Thee  and  their  lips  espous'd,  while  I  admire  50 

And  love  thee,  but  not  taste  thee.     Let  my  muse 

Fail  of  thy  former  helps,  and  only  use 

Her  inadult'rate  strength  ;  what's  done  by  me 

Hereafter,  shall  smell  of  the  lamp,  not  thee. 

197.     THE   WELCOME   TO    SACK. 

So  soft  streams  meet,  so  springs  with  gladder  smiles 

Meet  after  long  divorcement  by  the  isles, 

When  love,  the  child  of  likeness,  urgeth  on 

Their  crystal  natures  to  an  union ; 

So  meet  stol'n  kisses,  when  the  moony  nights  5 

Call  forth  fierce  lovers  to  their  wish'd  delights ; 

So  kings  and  queens  meet,  when  desire  convinces 

All  thoughts  but  such  as  aim  at  getting  princes, 

As  I  meet  thee.     Soul  of  my  life  and  fame ! 

Eternal  lamp  of  love !  whose  radiant  flame  J° 

Outglares  the  heav'ns'  Osiris  ;  and  thy  gleams 

Outshine  the  splendor  of  his  midday  beams. 

Welcome,  O  welcome,  my  illustrious  spouse ; 

Welcome  as  are  the  ends  unto  my  vows. 

Ay,  far  more  welcome  than  the  happy  soil  15 

The  sea-scourg'd  merchant,  after  all  his  toil, 

Salutes  with  tears  of  joy,  when  fires  betray 

The  smoky  chimneys  of  his  Ithaca. 

Where  hast  thou  been  so  long  from  my  embraces, 

Poor  pitied  exile  ?     Tell  me,  did  thy  graces  20 

Fly  discontented  hence,  and  for  a  time 

Did  rather  choose  to  bless  another  clime  ? 

Or  went'st  thou  to  this  end,  the  more  to  move  me 

By  thy  short  absence  to  desire  and  love  thee  ? 

Why  frowns  my  sweet  ?     Why  won't  my  saint  confer       25 

Favors  on  me,  her  fierce  idolater  ? 


24  HESPERIDES. 

Why  are  those  looks,  those  looks  the  which  have  been 

Time  past  so  fragrant,  sickly  now  drawn  in 

Like  a  dull  twilight  ?     Tell  me,  and  the  fault 

I'll  expiate  with  sulphur,  hair,  and  salt,  30 

And  with  the  crystal  humor  of  the  spring, 

Purge  hence  the  guilt,  and  kill  this  quarrelling. 

Wo't  thou  not  smile,  or  tell  me  what's  amiss  ? 

Have  I  been  cold  to  hug  thee,  too  remiss, 

Too  temp'rate  in  embracing  ?     Tell  me,  has  desire         35 

To  thee-ward  died  i'  th'  embers,  and  no  fire 

Left  in  this  rak'd-up  ash-heap,  as  a  mark 

To  testify  the  glowing  of  a  spark  ? 

Have  I  divorc'd  thee  only  to  combine 

In  hot  adult'ry  with  another  wine  ?  4° 

True,  I  confess  I  left  thee,  and  appeal 

'Twas  done  by  me,  more  to  confirm  my  zeal, 

And  double  my  affection  on  thee ;  as  do  those 

Whose  love  grows  more  enflam'd  by  being  foes. 

But  to  forsake  thee  ever,  could  there  be  45 

A  thought  of  such  like  possibility, 

When  thou  thyself  dar'st  say,  thy  isles  shall  lack 

Grapes,  before  Herrick  leaves  Canary  sack? 

Thou  mak'st  me  airy,  active  to  be  borne, 

Like  Iphyclus,  upon  the  tops  of  corn.  50 

Thou  mak'st  me  nimble,  as  the  winged  hours, 

To  dance  and  caper  on  the  heads  of  flowers, 

And  ride  the  sunbeams.     Can  there  be  a  thing 

Under  the  heavenly  Isis,  that  can  bring 

More  love  unto  my  life,  or  can  present  55 

My  genius  with  a  fuller  blandishment  ? 

Illustrious  idol !  could  the  Egyptians  seek 

Help  from  the  garlic,  onion,  and  the  leek, 

And  pay  no  vows  to  thee  ?  who  wast  their  best 

God,  and  far  more  transcendent  than  the  rest  ?  60 


HESPEKIDES.  25 

Had  Cassius,  that  weak  water-drinker,  known 

Thee  in  thy  vine,  or  had  but  tasted  one 

Small  chalice  of  thy  frantic  liquor,  he 

As  the  wise  Cato,  had  approv'd  of  thee. 

Come,  come  and  kiss  me ;  love  and  lust  commends 

Thee  and  thy  beauties  ;  kiss,  we  will  be  friends  70 

Too  strong  for  fate  to  break  us.     Look  upon 

Me  with  that  full  pride  of  complexion, 

As  queens  meet  queens ;  or  come  thou  unto  me, 

As  Cleopatra  came  to  Anthony, 

When  her  high  carriage  did  at  once  present  75 

To  the  Triumvir  love  and  wonderment. 

Swell  up  my  nerves  with  spirit ;  let  my  blood 

Run  through  my  veins  like  to  a  hasty  flood ; 

Fill  each  part  full  of  fire,  active  to  do 

What  thy  commanding  soul  shall  put  it  to ;  80 

And  till  I  turn  apostate  to  thy  love, 

Which  here  I  vow  to  serve,  do  not  remove 

Thy  fiers  from  me ;  but  Apollo's  curse 

Blast  these-like  actions,  or  a  thing  that's  worse ; 

When  these  circumstants  shall  but  live  to  see  85 

The  time  that  I  prevaricate  from  thee, 

Call  me  the  Son  of  Beer,  and  then  confine 

Me  to  the  tap,  the  toast,  the  turf ;  let  wine 

Ne'er  shine  upon  me,  may  my  numbers  all 

Run  to  a  sudden  death  and  funeral.  90 

And  last,  when  thee,  dear  spouse,  I  disavow, 

Ne'er  may  prophetic  Daphne  crown  my  brow. 

178.     CORINNA'S   GOING   A-MAYING. 

GET  up,  get  up  for  shame,  the  blooming  morn 

Upon  her  wings  presents  the  god  unshorn. 
See  how  Aurora  throws  her  fair 
Fresh-quilted  colors  through  the  air  ; 


26  HESPERIDES. 

Get  up,  sweet  slug-a-bed,  and  see  5 

The  dew  bespangling  herb  and  tree. 

Each  flower  has  wept,  and  bow'd  toward  the  east, 

Above  an  hour  since,  yet  you  not  dress'd, 
Nay!  not  so  much  as  out  of  bed? 
When  all  the  birds  have  matins  said,  10 

And  sung  their  thankful  hymns ;  'tis  sin, 
Nay,  profanation  to  keep  in, 

Whenas  a  thousand  virgins  on  this  day 

Spring,  sooner  than  the  lark,  to  fetch  in  May. 

Rise,  and  put  on  your  foliage,  and  be  seen  15 

To  come  forth,  like  the  Spring-time,  fresh  and  green, 

And  sweet  as  Flora.     Take  no  care 

For  jewels  for  your  gown  or  hair ; 

Fear  not,  the  leaves  will  strew 

Gems  in  abundance  upon  you ;  20 

Besides,  the  childhood  of  the  day  has  kept 
Against  you  come,  some  orient  pearls  unwept. 

Come,  and  receive  them  while  the  light 

Hangs  on  the  dew-locks  of  the  night, 

And  Titan  on  the  eastern  hill  25 

Retires  himself,  or  else  stands  still 
Till  you  come  forth.    Wash,  dress,  be  brief  in  praying ; 
Few  beads  are  best,  when  once  we  go  a-Maying. 

Come,  my  Corinna,  come ;  and  coming  mark 

How  each  field  turns  a  street,  each  street  a  park  30 

Made  green,  and  trimm'd  with  trees  ;  see  how 

Devotion  gives  each  house  a  bough 

Or  branch ;  each  porch,  each  door,  ere  this, 

An  ark,  a  tabernacle  is, 

Made  up  of  white-thorn  neatly  enterwove,  35 

As  if  here  were  those  cooler  shades  of  love. 


HESPERIDES.  27 

Can  such  delights  be  in  the  street 

And  open  fields,  and  we  not  see't  ? 

Come,  we'll  abroad,  and  let's  obey 

The  proclamation  made  for  May,  40 

And  sin  no  more,  as  we  have  done,  by  staying ; 
But,  my  Corinna,  come,  let's  go  a-Maying. 

There's  not  a  budding  boy  or  girl,  this  day, 
But  is  got  up  and  gone  to  bring  in  May. 

A  deal  of  youth,  ere  this,  is  come  45 

Back,  and  with  white-thorn  laden  home. 

Some  have  despatch'd  their  cakes  and  cream 

Before  that  we  have  left  to  dream : 
And  some  have  wept,  and  woo'd  and  plighted  troth, 
And  chose  their  priest,  ere  we  can  cast  off  sloth  ;  50 

Many  a  green-gown  has  been  given, 

Many  a  kiss,  both  odd  and  even, 

Many  a  glance,  too,  has  been  sent 

From  out  the  eye,  Love's  firmament ; 
Many  a  jest  told  of  the  key's  betraying  55 

This  night,  and  locks  pick'd,  yet  w'are  not  a-Maying. 

Come,  let  us  go,  while  we  are  in  our  prime, 
And  take  the  harmless  folly  of  the  time. 

We  shall  grow  old  apace  and  die 

Before  we  know  our  liberty.  60 

Our  life  is  short,  and  our  days  run 

As  fast  away  as  does  the  sun, 
And  as  a  vapor,  or  a  drop  of  rain 
Once  lost,  can  ne'er  be  found  again ; 

So  when  or  you  or  I  are  made  65 

A  fable,  song,  or  fleeting  shade, 

All  love,  all  liking,  all  delight 

Lies  drown'd  with  us  in  endless  night. 


28  HESPERIDES. 

Then  while  time  serves,  and  we  are  but  decaying, 
Come,  my  Corinna,  come,  let's  go  a-Maying.  7° 


181.     A   DIALOGUE   BETWIXT   HORACE   AND    LYDIA, 

Translated  Anno  1627,  and  set  by 

MR.  Ro:  RAMSEY. 

Hor.  WHILE,  Lydia,  I  was  lov'd  of  thee, 
Nor  any  was  preferr'd  'fore  me 
To  hug  thy  whitest  neck ;  than  I, 
The  Persian  King  liv'd  not  more  happily. 

Lyd.  While  thou  no  other  didst  affect,  5 

Nor  Chloe  was  of  more  respect ; 
Then  Lydia,  far-famed  Lydia, 
I  flourish'd  more  than  Roman  Ilia. 

Hor.  Now  Thracian  Chloe  governs  me, 

Skilful  i'  th'  harp  and  melody ;  10 

For  whose  affection,  Lydia,  I, 

So  fate  spares  her,  am  well  content  to  die. 

Lyd.  My  heart  now  set  on  fire  is 
By  Ornyth's  son,  young  Calais ; 

For  whose  commutual  flames  here  I,  1 5 

To  save  his  life,  twice  am  content  to  die. 

Hor.  Say  our  first  loves  we  should  revoke, 
And  sever'd,  join  in  brazen  yoke; 
Admit  I  Chloe  put  away, 
And  love  again  love-cast-off  Lydia  ?  20 

Lyd.  Though  mine  be  brighter  than  the  star ; 
Thou  lighter  than  the  cork  by  far, 
Rough  as  th'  Adratic  sea,  yet  I 
Will  live  with  thee,  or  else  for  thee  will  die. 


HESPERIDES.  29 


183.     UPON    PRIG. 

PRIG  now  drinks  water,  who  before  drank  beer ; 
What's  now  the  cause  ?     We  know  the  case  is  clear ; 
Look  in  Prig's  purse,  the  chev'ril  there  tells  you 
Prig  money  wants,  either  to  buy  or  brew. 


186.     TO    HIS    DYING    BROTHER,    MASTER   WILLIAM 
HERRICK. 

LIFE  of  my  life,  take  not  so  soon  thy  flight, 

But  stay  the  time  till  we  have  bade  good  night. 

Thou  hast  both  wind  and  tide  with  thee ;  thy  way 

As  soon  dispatch'd  is  by  the  night  as  day  : 

Let  us  not  then  so  rudely  henceforth  go  5 

Till  we  have  wept,  kiss'd,  sigh'd,  shook  hands,  or  so. 

There's  pain  in  parting,  and  a  kind  of  hell 

When  once  true  lovers  take  their  last  farewell. 

What?  shall  we  two  our  endless  leaves  take  here 

Without  a  sad  look,  or  a  solemn  tear?  10 

He  knows  not  love  that  hath  not  this  truth  proved, 

Love  is  most  loth  to  leave  the  thing  beloved. 

Pay*  we  our  vows  and  go ;  yet  when  we  part, 

Then,  even  then,  I  will  bequeath  my  heart 

Into  thy  loving  hands  ;  for  I'll  keep  none  15 

To  warm  my  breast,  when  thou  my  pulse  art  gone. 

No,  here  I'll  last,  and  walk,  a  harmless  shade, 

About  this  urn,  wherein  thy  dust  is  laid, 

To  guard  it  so  as  nothing  here  shall  be 

Heavy,  to  hurt  those  sacred  seeds  of  thee,  ?o 


30  IIESPERIDES. 

188.     UPON    MUCH-MORE.     EPIG. 

MUCH-MORE  provides  and  hoards  up  like  an  ant, 
Yet  Much-more  still  complains  he  is  in  want. 
Let  Much-more  justly  pay  his  tithes,  then  try 
How  both  his  meal  and  oil  will  multiply. 

191.     TO   PANSIES. 

AH,  cruel  Love !    must  I  endure 
Thy  many  scorns,  and  find  no  cure? 
Say,  are  thy  medicines  made  to  be 
Helps  to  all  others  but  to  me  ? 
I'll  leave  thee,  and  to  Pansies  come ; 
Comforts  you'll  afford  me  some  : 
You  can  ease  my  heart,  and  do 
What  love  could  ne'er  be  brought  unto. 

192.     ON   GILLY-FLOWERS    BEGOTTEN. 

WHAT  was't  that  fell  but  now 
From  that  warm  kiss  of  ours? 

Look,  look,  by  love  I  vow 
They  were  two  gilly-flowers. 

Let's  kiss,  and  kiss  again  ; 

For  if  so  be  our  closes 
Make  gilly-flowers,  then 

I'm  sure  they'll  fashion  roses. 

194.     TO   HIS   BOOK. 

LIKE  to  a  bride,  come  forth,  my  book,  at  last, 
With  all  thy  richest  jewels  overcast; 
Say,  if  there  be  'mongst  many  gems  here  one 
Deserveless  of  the  name  of  Paragon ; 


HESPERIDES.  31 

Blush  not  at  all  for  that,  since  we  have  set  5 

Some  pearls  on  queens  that  have  been  counterfet. 


197.     THE    WELCOME   TO    SACK. 
[Put   after   128.] 


201.     TO  LIVE   MERRILY,   AND  TO   TRUST   TO   GOOD 
VERSES. 

Now  is  the  time  for  mirth, 

Nor  cheek  or  tongue  be  dumb ; 

For  with  the  flow'ry  earth, 
The  golden  pomp  is  come. 

The  golden  pomp  is  come  ;  5 

For  now  each  tree  does  wear, 
Made  of  her  pap  and  gum, 

Rich  beads  of  amber  here. 

Now  reigns  the  Rose,  and  now 

Th'  Arabian  dew  besmears  10 

My  uncontrolled  brow, 

And  my  retorted  hairs. 

Homer,  this  health  to  thee, 

In  sack  of  such  a  kind 
That  it  would  make  thee  see,  15 

Though  thou  wert  ne'er  so  blind. 

Next,  Virgil  I'll  call  forth, 

To  pledge  this  second  health 
In  wine  whose  each  cup's  worth 

An  Indian  commonwealth.  20 


32  HESPERIDES. 

A  goblet  next  I'll  drink 

To  Ovid ;  and  suppose 
Made  he  the  pledge,  he'd  think 

The  world  had  all  one  nose. 

Then  this  immensive  cup  25 

Of  aromatic  wine, 
Catullus,  I  quaff  up 

To  that  terse  muse  of  thine. 

Wild  I  am  now  with  heat, 

O  Bacchus  !    cool  thy  rays,  3° 

Or  frantic  I  shall  eat 

Thy  thyrse,  and  bite  the  bays. 

Round,  round,  the  roof  does  run ; 

And  being  ravish'd  thus, 
Come,  I  will  drink  a  tun  35 

To  my  Propertius. 

Now,  to  Tibullus  next, 

This  flood  I  drink  to  thee ; 
But  stay,  I  see  a  text, 

That  this  presents  to  me.  40 

Behold !  Tibullus  lies 

Here  burnt,  whose  small  return 

Of  ashes  scarce  suffice 
To  fill  a  little  urn. 

Trust  to  good  verses  then ;  45 

They  only  will  aspire, 
When  pyramids,  as  men, 

Are  lost  i'  th'  funeral  fire, 


HESPERIDES.  33 

And  when  all  bodies  meet, 

In  Lethe  to  be  drown'd ;  5° 

Then  only  numbers  sweet 

With  endless  life  are  crown'd. 


205.     TO   VIOLETS. 

WELCOME,  maids  of  honor, 

You  do  bring 

In  the  spring, 
And  wait  upon  her. 

She  has  virgins  many,  5 

Fresh  and  fair ; 

Yet  you  are 
More  sweet  than  any. 

Y'are  the  maiden  posies, 

And  so  grac'd,  10 

To  be  plac'd, 
'Fore  damask  roses. 

Yet  though  thus  respected, 

By-and-by 

Ye  do  lie,  15 

Poor  girls,  neglected. 


206.     UPON   BUNCE.     EPIG. 

MONEY  thou  ow'st  me  :  prithee  fix  a  day 
For  payment  promis'd,  though  thou  never  pay: 
Let  it  be  doomsday  ;  nay,  take  longer  scope  ; 
Pay  when  th'art  honest,  let  me  have  some  hope. 


34  HESPERIDES. 

208.     TO    THE   VIRGINS,   TO    MAKE    MUCH    OF    TIME. 

GATHER  ye  rosebuds  while  ye  may, 

Old  Time  is  still  a-flying ; 
And  this  same  flower  that  smiles  to-day, 

To-morrow  will  be  dying. 

The  glorious  lamp  of  heaven,  the  sun,  5 

The  higher  he's  a-getting, 
The  sooner  will  his  race  be  run, 

And  nearer  he's  to  setting. 

That  age  is  best  which  is  the  first, 

When  youth  and  blood  are  warmer ;  10 

But  being  spent,  the  worse  and  worst 

Times  still  succeed  the  former. 

Then  be  not  coy,  but  use  your  time, 

And  while  ye  may,  go  marry ; 
For  having  lost  but  once  your  prime,  15 

You  may  for  ever  tarry. 

211.     HIS    POETRY    HIS    PILLAR. 

ONLY  a  little  more 

I  have  to  write, 

Then  I'll  give  o'er, 
And  bid  the  world  good-night. 

'Tis  but  a  flying  minute  5 

That  I  must  stay, 

Or  linger  in  it ; 
And  then  I  must  away. 

O  Time,  that  cut'st  down  all, 

And  scarce  leav'st  here  10 

Memorial 
Of  any  men  that  were  ! 


HESPERIDES.  35 

How  many  lie  forgot 

In  vaults  beneath, 

And  piecemeal  rot  15 

Without  a  fame  in  death ! 

Behold  this  living  stone 

I  rear  for  me, 

Ne'er  to  be  thrown 
Down,  envious  Time,  by  thee.  20 

Pillars  let  some  set  up, 

If  so  they  please, 

Here  is  my  hope, 
And  my  pyramides. 

213.     A    PASTORAL   UPON   THE   BIRTH   OF   PRINCE 
CHARLES, 

Presented  to  the  King,  and  set  by 

MR.  NIC:  LANIERE. 
The  Speakers — Mirtillo,  Amintas,  and  Amarillis. 

Amin.  GOOD  day,  Mirtillo.     Mirt.  And  to  you  no  less ; 
And  all  fair  signs  lead  on  our  shepherdess. 

Amar.  With  all  white  luck  to  you.    Mirt.  But  say,  what 

news 

Stirs  in  our  sheep-walk  ?    Amin.  None,  save  that  my  ewes, 
My  wethers,  lambs,  and  wanton  kids  are  well,  5 

Smooth,  fair,  and  fat,  none  better  I  can  tell : 
Or  that  this  day  Menalcas  keeps  a  feast 
For  his  sheep-shearers.     Mirt.  True,  these  are  the  least. 
But,  dear  Amintas,  and  sweet  Amarillis, 
Rest  but  awhile  here  by  this  bank  of  lilies ;  10 

And  lend  a  gentle  ear  to  one  report 

The  country  has.     Amin.  From  whence  ?     Amar.   From 
whence  ?     Mirt.  The  Court. 


36  HESPERIDES. 

Three  days  before  the  shutting  in  of  May 

(With  whitest  wool  be  ever  crown'd  that  day !) 

To  all  our  joy,  a  sweet-fac'd  child  was  born,  15 

More  tender  than  the  childhood  of  the  morn. 

Chor.  Pan  pipe  to  him,  and  bleats  of  lambs  and  sheep 
Let  lullaby  the  pretty  Prince  asleep. 

Mirt.  And  that  his  birth  should  be  more  singular, 
At  noon  of  day  was  seen  a  silver  star,  20 

Bright  as  the  Wise-men's  torch  which  guided  them 
To  God's  sweet  babe,  when  born  at  Bethlehem ; 
While  golden  angels,  some  have  told  to  me, 
Sung  out  his  birth  with  heav'nly  minstrelsy. 

Amin.  O  rare  !     But  is't  a  trespass,  if  we  three  25 

Should  wend  along  his  Baby-ship  to  see  ? 

Mirt.  Not  so,  not  so.     Chor.  But  if  it  chance  to  prove 
At  most  a  fault,  'tis  but  a  fault  of  love. 

Amar.  But,  dear  Mirtillo,  I  have  heard  it  told, 
Those  learned  men  brought  incense,  myrrh,  and  gold,         30 
Fjom  countries  far,  with  store  of  spices  sweet, 
And  laid  them  down  for  offerings  at  his  feet. 

Mirt.  'Tis  true,  indeed ;  and  each  of  us  will  bring 
Unto  our  smiling  and  our  blooming  King, 
A  neat,  though  not  so  great  an  offering.  35 

Amar.  A  garland  for  my  gift  shall  be, 
Of  flowers  ne'er  suck'd  by  th'  thieving  bee ; 
And  all  most  sweet,  yet  all  less  sweet  than  he. 

Amin.  And  I  will  bear  along  with  you 

Leaves  dropping  down  the  honied  dew,  40 

With  oaten  pipes,  as  sweet,  as  new. 

Mirt.  And  I  a  sheep-hook  will  bestow 
To  have  his  little  king-ship  know, 
As  he  is  prince,  he's  shepherd  too. 

Chor.  Come,  let's  away,  and  quickly  let's  be  dress'd,      45 
And  quickly  give.     The  swiftest  grace  is  best. 


HESPERIDES.  37 

And  when  before  him  we  have  laid  our  treasures, 
We'll  bless  the  babe,  then  back  to  country  pleasures. 

214.    TO   THE   LARK. 

GOOD  speed,  for  I  this  day 
Betimes  my  matins  say ; 

Because  I  do 

Begin  to  woo. 

Sweet  singing  lark,  5 

Be  thou  the  clerk, 

And  know  thy  when 

To  say,  Amen. 

And  if  I  prove 

Blest  in  my  love,  10 

Then  thou  shalt  be 

High-priest  to  me, 

At  my  return, 

To  incense  burn ; 

And  so  to  solemnize  15 

Love's  and  my  sacrifice. 

216.     A    MEDITATION   FOR   HIS    MISTRESS. 

You  are  a  Tulip  seen  to-day, 

But,  dearest,  of  so  short  a  stay, 

That  where  you  grew,  scarce  man  can  say. 

You  are  a  lovely  July-flower, 

Yet  one  rude  wind,  or  ruffling  shower,  5 

Will  force  you  hence,  and  in  an  hour. 

You  are  a  sparkling  Rose  i'  th'  bud, 
Yet  lost,  ere  that  chaste  flesh  and  blood 
Can  show  where  you  or  grew  or  stood. 


38  HESPERIDES. 

You  are  a  full-spread,  fair-set  Vine,  10 

And  can  with  tendrils  love  entwine, 
Yet  dried,  ere  you  distil  your  wine. 

You  are  like  Balm,  inclosed  well 
In  amber,  or  some  crystal  shell, 
Yet  lost  ere  you  transfuse  your  smell.  15 

You  are  a  dainty  Violet, 

Yet  wither'd,  ere  you  can  be  set 

Within  the  virgin's  coronet. 

You  are  the  Queen  all  flowers  among, 

But  die  you  must,  fair  maid,  ere  long,  20 

As  he,  the  maker  of  this  song. 

218.     LYRIC    FOR   LEGACIES. 

GOLD  I've  none,  for  use  or  show, 

Neither  silver  to  bestow 

At  my  death ;  but  thus  much  know, 

That  each  lyric  here  shall  be 

Of  my  love  a  legacy,  5 

Left  to  all  posterity. 

Gentle  friends,  then  do  but  please 

To  accept  such  coins  as  these, 

As  my  last  remembrances. 

223.     THE    FAIRY   TEMPLE;    OR,    OBERON'S    CHAPEL. 

Dedicated  to  MR.  JOHN  MERRIFIELD, 

Counsellor-at-Law. 

RARE  temples  thou  hast  seen,  I  know, 
And  rich  for  in  and  outward  show ; 
Survey  this  chapel,  built  a'one 
Without  or  lime,  or  wood  or  stone, 


HESPERIDES.  39 


Then  say,  if  one  th'ast  seen  more  fine 
Than  this,  the  fairies'  once,  now  thine. 


THE    TEMPLE. 

A  WAY  enchas'd  with  glass  and  beads 

There  is,  that  to  the  chapel  leads, 

Whose  structure,  for  his  holy  rest, 

Is  here  the  halcyon's  curious  nest ; 

Into  the  which  who  looks,  shall  see  5 

His  temple  of  idolatry, 

Where  he  of  godheads  has  such  store, 

As  Rome's  Pantheon  had  not  more. 

His  house  of  Rimmon  this  he  calls, 

Girt  with  small  bones,  instead  of  walls.  10 

First,  in  a  niche,  more  black  than  jet, 

His  idol-cricket  there  is  set ; 

Then  in  a  polish'd  oval  by, 

There  stands  his  idol-beetle-fly ; 

Next,  in  an  arch,  akin  to  this,  15 

His  idol-canker  seated  is  ; 

Then  in  a  round,  is  plac'd  by  these 

His  golden  god,  Cantharides. 

So  that  where'er  ye  look,  ye  see 

No  capital,  no  cornish  free,  20 

Or  frieze,  from  this  fine  frippery. 

Now,  this  the  fairies  would  have  known, 

Theirs  is  a  mix'd  religion  : 

And  some  have  heard  the  elves  it  call 

Part  Pagan,  part  Papistical.  25 

If  unto  me  all  tongues  were  granted, 

I  could  not  speak  the  saints  here  painted. 

Saint  Tit,  Saint  Nit,  Saint  Is,  Saint  Itis, 

Who  'gainst  Mab's  state  plac'd  here  right  is. 


40  HESPERIDES. 

Saint  Will  o'th'  Wisp,  of  no  great  bigness, 

But  alias  call'd  here  Fatuus  ignis. 

Saint  Frip,  Saint  Trip,  Saint  Fill,  Saint  Filly, 

Neither  those  other  saintships  will  I 

Here  go  about  for  to  recite 

Their  number,  almost  infinite  ; 

Which,  one  by  one,  here  set  down  are 

In  this  most  curious  calendar. 

First,  at  the  entrance  to  the  gate, 

A  little  puppet-priest  doth  wait, 

Who  squeaks  to  all  the  comers  there, 

Favor  your  tongues,  who  enter  here. 

Pure  hands  bring  hither,  without  stain. 

A  second  pules,  Hence,  hence,  profane. 

Hard  by,  i'  th'  shell  of  half  a  nut, 

The  holy-water  there  is  put ; 

A  little  brush  of  squirrel's  hairs, 

Compos'd  of  odd,  not  even  pairs, 

Stands  in  the  platter  or  close  by, 

To  purge  the  fairy  family. 

Near  to  the  altar  stands  the  priest, 

There  offring  up  the  Holy  Grist,    . 

Ducking  in  mood  and  perfect  tense, 

With  (much  good  do't  him)  reverence. 

The  altar  is  not  here  four-square, 

Nor  in  a  form  triangular ; 

Nor  made  of  glass,  or  wood,  or  stone, 

But  of  a  little  transverse  bone 

Which  boys  and  bruckel'd  children  call 

(Playing  for  points  and  pins)  cockall. 

Whose  linen  drapery  is  a  thin, 

Subtile,  and  ductile  codlin's  skin  ; 

Which  o'er  the  board  is  smoothly  spread 

With  little  seal-work  damasked, 


HESPERIDES.  41 

The  fringe  that  circumbinds  it,  too, 

Is  spangle-work  of  trembling  dew,  65 

Which,  gently  gleaming,  makes  a  show 

Like  frost-work  glitt'ring  on  the  snow. 

Upon  this  fetuous  board  doth  stand 

Something  for  shew-bread,  and  at  hand 

(Just  in  the  middle  of  the  altar)  70 

Upon  an  end,  the  Fairy-psalter, 

Graced  with  the  trout-fly's  curious  wings, 

Which  serve  for  watched  ribbonings. 

Now,  we  must  know,  the  elves  are  led 

Right  by  the  Rubric,  which  they  read  :  75 

And  if  report  of  them  be  true, 

They  have  their  text  for  what  they  do, 

Ay,  and  their  book  of  canons  too. 

And,  as  Sir  Thomas  Parson  tells, 

They  have  their  book  of  Articles  ;  80 

And  if  that  Fairy  knight  not  lies, 

They  have  their  Book  of  Homilies ; 

And  other  Scriptures,  that  design 

A  short,  but  righteous  discipline. 

The  basin  stands  the  board  upon  85 

To  take  the  Free  Oblation, 

A  little  pin-dust,  which  they  hold 

More  precious  than  we  prize  our  gold ; 

Which  charity  they  give  to  many 

Poor  of  the  parish,  if  there's  any.  9° 

Upon  the  ends  of  these  neat  rails, 

Hatch'd  with  the  silver-light  of  snails, 

The  elves,  in  formal  manner,  fix 

Two  pure  and  holy  candlesticks, 

In  either  which  a  small  tall  bent  95 

Burns  for  the  altar's  ornament. 

For  sanctity,  they  have,  to  these, 


42  HESPERIDES. 

Their  curious  copes  and  surplices 

Of  cleanest  cobweb,  hanging  by 

In  their  religious  vestery.  100 

They  have  their  ash-pans  and  their  brooms, 

To  purge  the  chapel  and  the  rooms  ; 

Their  many  mumbling  mass-priests  here, 

And  many  a  dapper  chorister. 

Their  ush'ring  vergers  here  likewise,  105 

Their  canons  and  their  chanteries  ; 

Of  cloister-monks  they  have  enow, 

Ay,  and  their  abbey-lubbers  too. 

And  if  their  Legend  do  not  lie, 

They  much  affect  the  Papacy  ;  no 

And  since  the  last  is  dead,  there's  hope 

Elf  Boniface  shall  next  be  Pope. 

They  have  their  cups  and  chalices, 

Their  pardons  and  indulgences, 

Their  beads  of  nits,  bells,  books,  and  wax  115 

Candles,  forsooth,  and  other  knacks  ; 

Their  holy  oil,  their  fasting  spittle, 

Their  sacred  salt  here,  not  a  little. 

Dry  chips,  old  shoes,  rags,  grease,  and  bones, 

Beside  their  fumigations.  120 

Many  a  trifle,  too,  and  trinket, 

And  for  what  use,  scarce  man  would  think  it. 

Next  then,  upon  the  chanters'  side  125 

An  apple's-core  is  hung  up  dry'd, 

With  rattling  kernels,  which  is  rung 

To  call  to  morn  and  even-song. 

The  saint,  to  which  the  most  he  prays 

And  offers  incense  nights  and  days,  130 

The  Lady  of  the  Lobster  is, 

Whose  foot-pace  he  doth  stroke  and  kiss, 

And  humbly  chives  of  saffron  brings, 


HESPERIDES.  43 

For  his  most  cheerful  offerings. 

When,  after  these,  h'as  paid  his  vows,  135 

He  lowly  to  the  altar  bows  ; 

And  then  he  dons  the  silkworm's  shed, 

Like  a  Turk's  turbant  on  his  head, 

And  reverently  departeth  thence, 

Hid  in  a  cloud  of  frankincense  ;  140 

And  by  the  glow-worm's  light  well  guided, 

Goes  to  the  feast  that's  now  provided. 


293.     OBERON'S  FEAST. 

SHAPCOT  !  to  thee  the  fairy  state 

I  with  discretion  dedicate  ; 

Because  thou  prizest  things  that  are 

Curious  and  unfamiliar. 

Take  first  the  Feast ;  these  dishes  gone,  5 

We'll  see  the  Fairy-Court  anon. 

A  little  mushroom  table  spread, 

After  short  prayers  they  set  on  bread, 

A  moon-parch'd  grain  of  purest  wheat, 

With  some  small  glitt'ring  grit,  to  eat  J0 

His  choice  bits  with ;  then  in  a  trice 

They  make  a  feast  less  great  than  nice. 

But  all  this  while  his  eye  is  serv'd, 

We  must  not  think  his  ear  was  starv'd ; 

But  that  there  was  in  place  to  stir  15 

His  spleen,  the  chirring  grasshopper, 

The  merry  cricket,  puling  fly, 

The  piping  gnat  for  minstrelsy. 

And  now,  we  must  imagine  first, 

The  elves  present,  to  quench  his  thirst,  20 


44  HESPERIDES. 

A  pure  seed-pearl  of  infant  dew, 

Brought  and  besweet'ned  in  a  blue 

And  pregnant  violet ;  which  done, 

His  kitling  eyes  begin  to  run 

Quite  through  the  table,  where  he  spies  25 

The  horns  of  papery  butterflies, 

Of  which  he  eats ;  and  tastes  a  little 

Of  that  we  call  the  cuckoo's  spittle  ; 

A  little  fuzz-ball  pudding  stands 

By,  yet  not  blessed  by  his  hands,  30 

That  was  too  coarse ;  but  then  forthwith 

He  ventures  boldly  on  the  pith 

Of  sug'red  rush,  and  eats  the  sag 

And  well  bestrutted  bee's  sweet  bag ; 

Gladding  his  palate  with  some  store  25 

Of  emmets'  eggs ;  what  would  he  more, 

But  beards  of  mice,  a  newt's  stew'd  thigh, 

A  bloated  earwig,  and  a  fly ; 

With  the  red-capp'd  worm,  that's  shut 

Within  the  concave  of  a  nut,  4o 

Brown  as  his  tooth.     A  little  moth, 

Late  fat'ned  in  a  piece  of  cloth  ; 

With  withered  cherries,  mandrake's  ears, 

Mole's  eyes ;  to  these  the  slain  stag's  tears  ; 

The  unctuous  dewlaps  of  a  snail,  45 

The  broke-heart  of  a  nightingale 

O'er-come  in  music ;  with  a  wine 

Ne'er  ravish'd  from  the  flattering  vine, 

But  gently  press'd  from  the  soft  side 

Of  the  most  sweet  and  dainty  bride,  5o 

Brought  in  a  dainty  daisy,  which 

He  fully  quaffs  up  to  bewitch 

His  blood  to  height ;  this  done,  commended 

Grace  by  his  priest,  the  feast  is  ended. 


HESPERJDES.  45 


444.     OBERON'S  PALACE. 

AFTER  the  feast,  my  Shapcot,  see 

The  Fairy  Court  I  give  to  thee ; 

Where  we'll  present  our  Oberon  led 

Half-tipsy  to  the  Fairy  bed, 

Where  Mab  he  finds,  who  there  doth  lie  $ 

Not  without  mickle  majesty. 

Which  done,  and  thence  remov'd  the  light, 

We'll  wish  both  them  and  thee  good-night. 

Full  as  a  bee  with  thyme,  and  red 

As  cherry  harvest,  now  high  fed  10 

For  lust  and  action ;  on  he'll  go 

To  lie  with  Mab,  though  all  say  no. 

Lust  has  no  ears  ;  he's  sharp  as  thorn, 

And  fretful,  carries  hay  in  's  horn, 

And  lightning  in  his  eyes  ;  and  flings  15 

Among  the  elves,  if  mov'd,  the  stings 

Of  peltish  wasps  ;  well  know  his  guard, 

Kings,  though  th'are  hated,  will  be  fear 'd. 

Wine  lead  him  on.     Thus  to  a  grove, 

Sometimes  devoted  unto  love,  20 

Tinsel'd  with  twilight,  he  and  they 

Led  by  the  shine  of  snails,  a  way 

Beat  with  their  num'rous  feet,  which  by 

Many  a  neat  perplexity, 

Many  a  turn,  and  man'  a  cross-  25 

Track,  they  redeem  a  bank  of  moss 

Spongy  and  swelling,  and  far  more 

Soft  then  the  finest  Lemster  ore  ; 

Mildly  disparkling,  like  those  fires 

Which  break  from  the  injewel'd  tyres  3° 


46  HESPERIDES. 

Of  curious  brides  ;  or  like  those  mites 

Of  candy'd  dew  in  moony  nights. 

Upon  this  convex,  all  the  flowers 

Nature  begets  by  th'  sun  and  showers, 

Are  to  a  wild  digestion  brought,  35 

As  if  Love's  sampler  here  was  wrought ; 

Or  Citherea's  ceston,  which 

All  with  temptation  doth  bewitch. 

Sweet  airs  move  here,  and  more  divine 

Made  by  the  breath  of  great-ey'd  kine,  40 

Who,  as  they  low,  empearl  with  milk 

The  four-leav'd  grass,  or  moss  like  silk. 

The  breath  of  monkeys,  met  to  mix 

With  musk-flies,  are  th'  aromatics 

Which  cense  this  arch ;  and  here  and  there,  45 

And  farther  off,  and  everywhere 

Throughout  that  brave  mosaic  yard, 

Those  picks  or  diamonds  in  the  card ; 

With  peeps  of  hearts,  of  club  and  spade, 

Are  here  most  neatly  interlaid.  50 

Many  a  counter,  many  a  die, 

Half-rotten  and  without  an  eye, 

Lies  hereabouts ;  and  for  to  pave 

The  excellency  of  this  cave, 

Squirrels'  and  children's  teeth  late  shed,  55 

Are  neatly  here  enchequered, 

With  brownest  toadstones,  and  the  gum 

That  shines  upon  the  bluer  plum, 

The  nails  fallen  off  by  whit-flaws  ;  Art's 

Wise  hand  enchasing  here  those  warts  60 

Which  we  to  others  (from  ourselves) 

Sell,  and  brought  hither  by  the  elves. 

The  tempting  mole,  stol'n  from  the  neck 

Of  the  shy  virgin,  seems  to  deck 


HESPERIDES.  47 

The  holy  entrance ;  where  within  63 

The  room  is  hung  with  the  blue  skin 
Of  shifted  snake  ;  enfriez'd  throughout 
With  eyes  of  peacocks'  trains,  and  trout- 
flies'  curious  wings  ;  and  these  among 
Those  silver-pence,  that  cut  the  tongue  70 

Of  the  red  infant,  neatly  hung. 
The  glow-worm's  eyes,  the  shining  scales 
Of  silv'ry  fish,  wheat-straws,  the  snail's 
Soft  candle-light,  the  killing's  eyne, 
Corrupted  wood,  serve  here  for  shine.  75 

No  glaring  light  of  bold-fac'd  day, 
Or  other  over-radiant  ray, 
Ransacks  this  room ;  but  what  weak  beams 
Can  make  reflected  from  these  gems, 
And  multiply  ;  such  is  the  light,  So 

But  ever  doubtful,  day  or  night. 
By  this  quaint  taper-light,  he  winds 
His  errors  up ;  and  now  he  finds 
His  moon-tann'd  Mab,  as  somewhat  sick, 
And,  love  knows,  tender  as  a  chick.  85 

Upon  six  plump  dandillions,  high- 
Rear'd,  lies  her  elvish  majesty, 
Whose  woolly  bubbles  seemed  to  drown 
Her  Mabship  in  obedient  down  ; 
For  either  sheet  was  spread  the  caul  9° 

That  doth  the  infant's  face  enthral, 
When  it  is  born,  by  some  enstyl'd 
The  lucky  omen  of  the  child  ; 
And  next  to  these,  two  blankets  o'er- 
Cast  of  the  finest  gossamore ;  .  95 

And  then  a  rug  of  carded  wool, 
Which,  sponge-like,  drinking  in  the  dull 
Light  of  the  moon,  seemed  to  comply, 


48  HESPERIDES. 

Cloud-like,  the  dainty  deity. 

Thus  soft  she  lies  ;  and  over-head  100 

A  spinner's  circle  is  bespread 

With  cobweb  curtains,  from  the  roof 

So  neatly  sunk,  as  that  no  proof 

Of  any  tackling  can  declare 

What  gives  it  hanging  in  the  air.  105 


445.     TO  HIS    PECULIAR   FRIEND,    MASTER   THOMAS 
SHAPCOTT,   LAWYER. 

I'VE  paid  thee  what  I  promis'd  ;  that's  not  all ; 
Besides,  I  give  thee  here  a  verse  that  shall, 
When  hence  thy  circummortal  part  is  gone, 
Arch-like,  hold  up,  thy  name's  inscription. 
Brave  men  can't  die,  whose  candid  actions  are 
Writ  in  the  poet's  endless  calendar : 
Whose  vellum  and  whose  volume  is  the  sky, 
And  the  pure  stars  the  praising  poetry. 

Farewell. 


224.      TO    MISTRESS     KATHERINE    BRADSHAW,    THE 
LOVELY,   THAT  CROWNED   HIM   WITH   LAUREL. 

MY  Muse  in  meads  has  spent  her  many  hours 
Sitting,  and  sorting  several  sorts  of  flowers, 
To  make  for  others  garlands ;  and  to  set 
On  many  a  head  here,  many  a  coronet. 
But  .amongst  all  encircled  here,  not  one 
Gave  her  a  day  of  coronation, 
Till  you,  sweet  mistress,  came  and  interwove 
A  laurel  for  her,  ever  young  as  love. 


HESPERIDES.  49 

You  first  of  all  crown'd  her ;  she  must,  of  due, 
Render  for  that  a  crown  of  life  to  you.  10 

225.     THE   PLAUDITE;   OR,    END    OF   LIFE. 

IF  after  rude  and  boist'rous  seas, 

My  weaned  pinnace  here  finds  ease  ; 

If  so  it  be  I've  gain'd  the  shore, 

With  safety  of  a  faithful  oar  ; 

If  having  run  my  barque  on  ground,  5 

Ye  see  the  aged  vessel  crown'd  ; 

What's  to  be  done,  but  on  the  sands 

Ye  dance  and  sing,  and  now  clap  hands  ? 

The  first  act's  doubtful,  but  we  say, 

It  is  the  last  commends  the  play.  I0 

227.     TO   MUSIC,   TO    BECALM    HIS    FEVER. 

CHARM  me  asleep,  and  melt  me  so 

With  thy  delicious  numbers, 
That  being  ravish'd,  hence  I  go 
Away  in  easy  slumbers. 

Ease  my  sick  head,.  5 

And  make  my  bed, 
Thou  power  that  canst  sever 
From  me  this  ill, 
And  quickly  still 

Though  thou  not  kill  10 

My  fever. 

Thou  sweetly  canst  convert  the  same 

From  a  consuming  fire 
Into  a  gentle-licking  flame, 

And  make  it  thus  expire.  15 


HRSPERIDES. 

Then  make  me  weep 
My  pains  asleep, 
And  give  me  such  reposes, 
That  I,  poor  I, 

May  think,  thereby,  20 

I  live  and  die 
'Mongst  roses. 

Fall  on  me  like  a  silent  dew,1 

Or  like  those  maiden  showers 
Which,  by  the  peep  of  day,  do  strew  25 

A  baptime  o'er  the  flowers. 
Melt,  melt  my  pains, 
With  thy  soft  strains, 
That  having  ease  me  given, 

With  full  delight,  30 

I  leave  this  light, 
And  take  my  flight 
For  Heaven. 

247.  THE  COMING  OF  GOOD  LUCK. 

So  Good-luck  came,  and  on  my  roof  did  light, 
Like  noiseless  snow,  or  as  the  dew  of  night ; 
Not  all  at  once,  but  gently,  as  the  trees 
Are  by  the  sunbeams  tickel'd  by  degrees. 

250.     THE   HOCK-CART;   OR,    HARVEST    HOME. 

To  the  Right  Honorable  MILDMAY, 

Earl  of  Westmorland. 

COME,  sons  of  summer,  by  whose  toil, 
We  are  the  lords  of  wine  and  oil ; 
By  whose  tough  labors  and  rough  hands, 
We  rip  up  first,  then  reap  our  lands ; 


HESPERIDES.  51 

Crown'd  with  the  ears  of  corn,  now  come,  5 

And,  to  the  pipe,  sing  Harvest  home ! 

Come  forth,  my  lord,  and  see  the  cart 

Dress'd  up  with  all  the  country  art. 

See,  here  a  maukin,  there  a  sheet, 

As  spotless  pure  as  it  is  sweet ;  10 

The  horses,  mares,  and  frisking  fillies, 

Clad  all  in  linen  white  as  lilies ; 

The  harvest  swains  and  wenches  bound 

For  joy,  to  see  the  Hock-cart  crown'd. 

About  the  cart  hear  how  the  rout  15 

Of  rural  younglings  raise  the  shout, 

Pressing  before,  some  coming  after, 

Those  with  a  shout,  and  these  with  laughter. 

Some  bless  the  cart,  some  kiss  the  sheaves, 

Some  prank  them  up  with  oaken  leaves ;  20 

Some  cross  the  fill-horse,  some  with  great 

Devotion  stroke  the  home-borne  wheat, 

While  other  rustics,  less  attent 

To  prayers  than  to  merriment, 

Run  after  with  their  breeches  rent.  25 

Well,  on,  brave  boys,  to  your  lord's  hearth, 

Glitt'ring  with  fire,  where,  for  your  mirth, 

Ye  shall  see  first  the  large  and  chief 

Foundation  of  your  feast,  fat  beef ; 

With  upper  stories,  mutton,  veal,  30 

And  bacon,  which  makes  full  the  meal, 

With  sev'ral  dishes  standing  by, 

As,  here  a  custard,  there  a  pie, 

And  here  all-tempting  frumenty. 

And  for  to  make  the  merry  cheer,  35 

If  smirking  wine  be  wanting  here, 

There's  that  which  drowns  all  care,  stout  beer, 

Which  freely  drink  to  your  lord's  health, 


52  HESPERIDES. 

Then  to  the  plough,  (the  commonwealth); 

Next  to  your  flails,  your  fanes,  your  fats  ;  4° 

Then  to  the  maids  with  wheaten  hats  ; 

To  the  rough  sickle,  and  the  crook'd  scythe ; 

Drink,  frolic,  boys,  till  all  be  blithe. 

Feed  and  grow  fat,  and  as  ye  eat, 

Be  mindful  that  the  lab'ring  neat,  45 

As  you,  may  have  their  fill  of  meat ; 

And  know,  besides,  ye  must  revoke 

The  patient  ox  unto  the  yoke, 

And  all  go  back  unto  the  plough 

And  harrow,  though  they're  hang'd  up  now.  50 

And,  you  must  know,  your  lord's  word's  true, 

Feed  him  ye  must,  whose  food  fills  you. 

And  that  this  pleasure  is  like  rain, 

Not  sent  ye  for  to  drown  your  pain, 

But  for  to  make  it  spring  again.  55 

251.     THE    PERFUME. 

TO-MORROW,  Julia,  I  betimes  must  rise, 

For  some  small  fault  to  offer  sacrifice ; 

The  altar's  ready;  fire  to  consume 

The  fat ;  breathe  thou,  and  there's  the  rich  perfume. 

• 

255.     TO   THE   WESTERN    WIND. 

SWEET  western  wind,  whose  luck  it  is,  i 

Made  rival  with  the  air, 
To  give  Perenna's  lip  a  kiss, 

And  fan  her  wanton  hair. 

Bring  me  but  one,  I'll  promise  thee,  5 

Instead  of  common  showers, 
Thy  wings  shall  be  embalm'd  by  me, 

And  all  beset  with  flowers. 


HESPERIDES.  53 

256.     UPON   THE   DEATH   OF   HIS    SPARROW. 
An  Elegy. 

WHY  do  not  all  fresh  maids  appear 

To  work  Love's  sampler  only  here, 

Where  spring-time  smiles  throughout  the  year? 

Are  not  here  rosebuds,  pinks,  all  flowers 

Nature  begets  by  th'  sun  and  showers,  5 

Met  in  one  hearse-cloth,  to  o'erspread 

The  body  of  the  under-dead  ? 

Phil,  the  late  dead,  the  late  dead  dear, 

O  !  may  no  eye  distil  a  tear 

For  you  once  lost,  who  weep  not  here !  10 

Had  Lesbia,  too  too  kind,  but  known 

This  sparrow,  she  had  scorn'd  her  own, 

And  for  this  dead  which  under-lies, 

Wept  out  her  heart,  as  well  as  eyes. 

But  endless  peace,  sit  here,  and  keep  15 

My  Phil,  the  time  he  has  to  sleep, 

And  thousand  virgins  come  and  weep, 

To  make  these  flow'ry  carpets  show 

Fresh  as  their  blood,  and  ever  grow, 

Till  passengers  shall  spend  their  doom ;  20 

Not  Virgil's  gnat  had  such  a  tomb. 

257.     TO    PRIMROSES    FILL'D    WITH    MORNING   DEW. 

WHY  do  ye  weep,  sweet  babes  ?     Can  tears 
Speak  grief  in  you, 
Who  were  but  born 
Just  as  the  modest  morn 

Teem'd  her  refreshing  dew  ?  5 

Alas,  you  have  not  known  that  shower 
That  mars  a  flower, 


54 


Nor  felt  th'  unkind 
Breath  of  a  blasting  wind, 
Nor  are  ye  worn  with  years,  I0 

Or  warp'd,  as  we, 

Who  think  it  strange  to  see 

Such  pretty  flowers,  like  to  orphans  young, 

To  speak  by  tears  before  ye  have  a  tongue. 

Speak,  whimp'ring  younglings,  and  make  known  1  5 

The  reason  why 
Ye  droop  and  weep. 
Is  it  for  want  of  sleep  ? 
Or  childish  lullaby? 

Or  that  ye  have  not  seen  as  yet  20 

The  violet  ? 
Or  brought  a  kiss 
From  that  sweetheart  to  this? 
No,  no,  this  sorrow  shown 

By  your  tears  shed  25 

Would  have  this  lecture  read, 
That  things  of  greatest,  so  of  meanest  worth, 
Conceiv'd  with  grief  are,  and  with  tears  brought  forth. 


258.     HOW    ROSES    CAME   RED. 

ROSES  at  first  were  white, 
Till  they  could  not  agree, 

Whether  my  Sapho's  breast 
Or  they  more  white  should  be. 

But  being  vanquish'd  quite, 

A  blush  their  cheeks  bespread  ; 

Since  which,  believe  the  rest, 
The  roses  first  came  red. 


HESPERIDES.  55 


262.     TO   THE   WILLOW   TREE. 

THOU  art  to  all  lost  love  the  best, 

The  only  true  plant  found, 
Wherewith  young  men  and  maids  distress'd, 

And  left  of  love,  are  crown 'd. 

When  once  the  lover's  rose  is  dead, 

Or  laid  aside  forlorn, 
Then  willow  garlands  'bout  the  head, 

Bedew'd  with  tears,  are  worn. 

When  with  neglect,  the  lover's  bane, 

Poor  maids  rewarded  be, 
For  their  lost  love,  their  only  gain 

Is  but  a  wreath  from  thee. 

And  underneath  thy  cooling  shade, 

When  weary  of  the  light, 
The  love-spent  youth  and  love-sick  maid 

Come  to  weep  out  the  night. 


267.     TO   ANTHEA,    WHO   MAY   COMMAND    HIM 
ANYTHING. 

BID  me  to  live,  and  I  will  live 

Thy  Protestant  to  be ; 
Or  bid  me  love,  and  I  will  give 

A  loving  heart  to  thee. 

A  heart  as  soft,  a  heart  as  kind, 

A  heart  as  sound  and  free, 
As  in  the  whole  world  thou  canst  find, 

That  heart  I'll  give  to  thee. 


56  HESPEKIDES. 

Bid  that  heart  stay,  and  it  will  stay, 

To  honor  thy  decree  ;  10 

Or  bid  it  languish  quite  away, 
And  't  shall  do  so  for  thee. 

Bid  me  to  weep,  and  I  will  weep, 

While  I  have  eyes  to  see  ; 
And  having  none,  yet  I  will  keep  15 

A  heart  to  weep  for  thee. 

Bid  me  despair,  and  I'll  despair, 

Under  that  cypress  tree ; 
Or  bid  me  die,  and  I  will  dare 

E'en  death,  to  die  for  thee.  20 

Thou  art  my  life,  my  love,  my  heart, 

The  very  eyes  of  me ; 
And  hast  command  of  every  part, 

To  live  and  die  for  thee. 


269.     OBEDIENCE   IN   SUBJECTS. 

THE  gods  to  kings  the  judgment  give  to  sway ; 
The  subjects'  only  glory  to  obey. 


273.     UPON   BROCK.     EPIG. 

To  cleanse  his  eyes,  Tom  Brock  makes  much  ado, 
But  not  his  mouth,  the  fouler  of  the  two. 
A  clammy  rheum  makes  loathsome  both  his  eyes ; 
His  mouth  worse  furr'd  with  oaths  and  blasphemies. 


HESPERIDES. 


57 


274.     TO   MEADOWS. 

YE  have  been  fresh  and  green, 
Ye  have  been  fill'd  with  flowers ; 

And  ye  the  walks  have  been 

Where  maids  have  spent  their  hours. 

You  have  beheld  how  they 

With  wicker  arks  did  come, 
To  kiss  and  bear  away 

The  richer  cowslips  home. 

Y'ave  heard  them  sweetly  sing, 

And  seen  them  in  a  round ; 
Each  virgin,  like  a  spring, 

With  honeysuckles  crown'd. 

But  now,  we  see  none  here 

Whose  silv'ry  feet  did  tread 
And  with  dishevell'd  hair 

Adorn'd  this  smoother  mead. 

Like  unthrifts,  having  spent 
Your  stock,  and  needy  grown, 

Y'are  left  here  to  lament 
Your  poor  estates,  alone. 

275.    CROSSES. 

THOUGH  good  things  answer  many  good  intents, 
Crosses  do  still  bring  forth  the  best  events. 

278.     TO    HIS    HOUSEHOLD    GODS. 

RISE,  Household  gods,  and  let  us  go, 
But  whither,  I  myself  not  know. 
First,  let  us  dwell  on  rudest  seas ; 
Next,  with  severest  salvages ; 


10 


58  HESPERIDES. 

Last,  let  us  make  our  best  abode,  5 

Where  human  foot  as  yet  ne'er  trod ; 
Search  worlds  of  ice,  and  rather  there 
Dwell,  than  in  loathed  Devonshire. 

279.  TO  THE  NIGHTINGALE  AND  ROBIN  REDBREAST. 

WHEN  I  departed  am,  ring  thou  my  knell, 
Thou  pitiful  and  pretty  Philomel ; 
And  when  I'm  laid  out  for  a  corse,  then  be 
Thou  sexton,  Redbreast,  for  to  cover  me. 

280.  TO  THE  YEW  AND  CYPRESS  TO  GRACE  HIS 

FUNERAL. 

BOTH  you  two  have 
Relation  to  the  grave ; 

And  where 
The  fun'ral-trump  sounds,  you  are  there. 

I  shall  be  made  5 

Ere  long  a  fleeting  shade ; 

Pray  come, 
And  do  some  honor  to  my  tomb. 

Do  not  deny 
My  last  request,  for  I  ic 

Will  be 
Thankful  to  you,  or  friends  for  me. 

283.      A   NUPTIAL   SONG;    OR,    EPITHALAMIE    ON   SIR 
CLIPSEBY    CREW    AND    HIS    LADY. 

WHAT'S  that  we  see  from  far  ?     The  spring  of  day 
Bloom'd  from  the  east,  or  fair  injewel'd  May 

Blown  out  of  April ;  or  some  new 

Star  fill'd  with  glory  to  our  view, 


HESPERIDES.  59 

Reaching  at  heaven,  5 

To  add  a  nobler  planet  to  the  seven  ? 

Say,  or  do  we  not  descry 
Some  goddess  in  a  cloud  of  tiffany 

To  move,  or  rather  the 
Emergent  Venus  from  the  sea  ?  10 

Tis  she  !  'tis  she  !  or  else  some  more  divine 
Enlight'ned  substance ;  mark  how  from  the  shrine 

Of  holy  saints  she  paces  on, 

Treading  upon  vermilion 

And  amber;  spice-  J5 

ing  the  chaf'd  air  with  fumes  of  Paradise. 

Then  come  on,  come  on,  and  yield 
A  savor  like  unto  a  blessed  field 

When  the  bedabbled  morn 

Washes  the  golden  ears  of  corn.  20 

See  where  she  comes,  and  smell  how  all  the  street 
Breathes  vineyards  and  pomegranates  ;  O  how  sweet ! 

As  a  fir'd  altar,  is  each  stone, 

Perspiring  pounded  cinnamon. 

The  phoenix'  nest,  25 

Built  up  of  odors,  burneth  in  her  breast. 

Who  therein  would  not  consume 
His  soul  to  ash-heaps  in  that  rich  perfume  ? 
Bestroking  fate  the  while 

He  burns  to  embers  on  the  pile.  3° 

Hymen,  O  Hymen  !  tread  the  sacred  ground ; 

Show  thy  white  feet,  and  head  with  marjoram  crown'd  : 

Mount  up  thy  flames,  and  let  thy  torch 

Display  the  bridegroom  in  the  porch, 

In  his  desires  35 

More  tow'ring,  more  disparkling  than  thy  fires ; 


60  HESPERIDES. 

Show  her  how  his  eyes  do  turn 
And  roll  about,  and  in  their  motions  burn 

Their  balls  to  cinders;  haste, 
Or  else  to  ashes  he  will  waste.  40 

Glide  by  the  banks  of  virgins  then,  and  pass 
The  showers  of  roses,  lucky  four-leav'd  grass  ; 

The  while  the  cloud  of  younglings  sing, 

And  drown  ye  with  a  flow'ry  spring ; 

While  some  repeat  45 

Your  praise,  and  bless  you,  sprinkling  you  with  wheat ; 

While  that  others  do  divine, 
Blest  is  the  bride,  on  whom  the  sun  doth  shine  ; 
And  thousands  gladly  wish 

You  multiply,  as  doth  a  fish.  50 

And  beauteous  bride,  we  do  confess  y'are  wise, 

In  dealing  forth  these  bashful  jealousies  : 
In  Love's  name  do  so,  and  a  price 
Set  on  your  self,  by  being  nice. 

But  yet  take  heed  :  55 

What  now  you  seem,  be  not  the  same  indeed, 
And  turn  apostate  ;  Love  will 

Part  of  the  way  be  met,  or  sit  stone  still. 
On  then,  and  though  you  slow- 
ly go,  yet,  howsoever,  go.  60 

And  now  y'are  enter'd,  see  the  coddled  cook 
Runs  from  his  torrid  zone,  to  pry  and  look, 

And  bless  his  dainty  mistress ;  see, 

The  aged  point  out,  This  is  she 

Who  now  must  sway  65 

The  house  (Love  shield  her)  with  her  Yea  and  Nay ; 

And  the  smirk  butler  thinks  it 
Sin,  in's  nap'ry,  not  to  express  his  wit ; 


HESPERIDES.  61 

Each  striving  to  devise 
Some  gin,  wherewith  to  catch  your  eyes.  70 

By  the  bride's  eyes,  and  by  the  teeming  life 

Of  her  green  hopes,  we  charge  ye,  that  no  strife, 

Farther  than  gentleness,  gets  place 

Among  ye,  striving  for  her  lace. 

O  do  not  fall  85 

Foul  in  these  noble  pastimes,  lest  ye  call 

Discord  in,  and  so  divide 

The  youthful  bridegroom  and  the  fragrant  bride ; 
Which  Love  forefend ;  but  spoken 

Be't  to  your  praise,  no  peace  was  broken.  90 

And  to  enchant  ye  more,  see  everywhere 
About  the  roof  a  siren  in  a  sphere, 

As  we  think,  singing  to  the  din 

Of  many  a  warbling  cherubin. 

O  mark  ye  how  105 

The  soul  of  Nature  melts  in  numbers ;  now 

See,  a  thousand  Cupids  fly, 
To  light  their  tapers  at  the  bride's  bright  eye. 
To  bed,  or  her  they'll  tire, 

Were  she  an  element  of  fire.  no 

All  now  is  hushed  in  silence ;  midwife  moon, 
With  all  her  owl-ey'd  issue,  begs  a  boon 

Which  you  must  grant ;  that's  entrance ;  with 

Which  extract  all  we  can  call  pith 

And  quintessence  i55 

Of  planetary  bodies  ;  so  commence 

All  fair  constellations 
Looking  upon  ye,  that,  two  nations 

Springing  from  two  such  fires, 

May  blaze  the  virtue  of  their  sires.  16° 


62  HESPERIDES. 


288.     DEVOTION    MAKES   THE   DEITY. 

WHO  forms  a  godhead  out  of  gold  or  stone, 
Makes  not  a  god ;  but  he  that  prays  to  one. 


293.     OBERON'S   FEAST. 
[Placed  after  223.] 

299.     THE   BELLMAN. 

FROM  noise  of  scare-fires  rest  ye  free, 
From  murders  benedicite, 
From  all  mischances  that  may  fright 
Your  pleasing  slumbers  in  the  night 
Mercy  secure  ye  all,  and  keep 
The  goblin  from  ye,  while  ye  sleep. 
Past  one  o'clock,  and  almost  two, 
My  masters  all,  Good  day  to  you. 

302.     UPON   PRUDENCE   BALDWIN,   HER   SICKNESS. 

PRUE,  my  dearest  maid,  is  sick, 
Almost  to  be  lunatic : 
^sculapius,  come  and  bring 
Means  for  her  recovering, 
And  a  gallant  cock  shall  be 
Offer'd  up  by  her  to  thee. 

306.     ON    HIMSELF. 

HERE  down  my  wearied  limbs  I'll  lay; 
My  pilgrim's  staff,  my  weed  of  grey, 
My  palmer's  hat,  my  scallop's  shell, 
My  cross,  my  cord,  and  all  farewell. 


HESPERIDES.  63 

For  having  now  my  journey  done,  5 

Just  at  the  setting  of  the  sun, 

Here  have  I  found  a  chamber  fit, 

God  and  good  friends  be  thank'd  for  it, 

Where  if  I  can  a  lodger  be 

A  little  while  from  tramplers  free ;  10 

At  my  uprising  next,  I  shall, 

If  not  requite,  yet  thank  ye  all. 

Meanwhile,  the  Holy-rood  hence  fright 

The  fouler  fiend  and  evil  sprite, 

From  scaring  you  or  yours  this  night.  15 


310.     UPON   A   CHILD   THAT   DIED. 

HERE  she  lies,  a  pretty  bud, 
Lately  made  of  flesh  and  blood ; 
Who,  as  soon  fell  fast  asleep, 
As  her  little  eyes  did  peep. 
Give  her  strewings ;  but  not  stir 
The  earth,  that  lightly  covers  her. 


313.      THE    ENTERTAINMENT  ;    OR,    PORCH-VERSE,    at 

the   Marriage  of   MR.  HEN.  NORTHLY,   and   the 

most  witty  MRS.  LETTICE  YARD. 

WELCOME  !  but  yet  no  entrance,  till  we  bless 
First  you,  then  you,  and  both  for  white  success. 
Profane  no  porch,  young  man  and  maid,  for  fear 
Ye  wrong  the  Threshold-god  that  keeps  peace  here : 
Please  him,  and  then  all  good-luck  will  betide 
You,  the  brisk  bridegroom,  you,  the  dainty  bride. 
Do  all  things  sweetly,  and  in  comely  wise ; 
Put  on  your  garlands  first,  then  sacrifice ; 


64  HESPERIDES. 

That  done,  when  both  of  you  have  seemly  fed, 

We'll  call  on  night  to  bring  ye  both  to  bed ;  10 

Where  being  laid,  all  fair  signs  looking  on, 

Fish-like,  increase  then  to  a  million  ; 

And  millions  of  spring-times  may  ye  have, 

Which  spent,  one  death  bring  to  ye  both  one  grave. 

314.     THE  GOOD-NIGHT,  OR  BLESSING. 

BLESSINGS,  in  abundance  come 

To  the  bride  and  to  her  groom  ; 

Pleasures  many  here  attend  ye,  5 

And  ere  long  a  boy  Love  send  ye, 

Curl'd  and  comely,  and  so  trim, 

Maids,  in  time,  may  ravish  him. 

Thus  a  dew  of  graces  fall 

On  ye  both.     Good-night  to  all.  10 

316.     TO   DAFFODILS. 

FAIR  Daffodils,  we  weep  to  see 

You  haste  away  so  soon  ; 
As  yet  the  early  rising  sun 
Has  not  attain'd  his  noon. 

Stay,  stay,  5 

Until  the  hasting  day 
Has  run 

But  to  the  even-song ; 
And,  having  pray'd  together,  we 

Will  go  with  you  along.  10 

We  have  short  time  to  stay,  as  you, 

We  have  as  short  a  spring  ; 
As  quick  a  growth  to  meet  decay, 

As  you,  or  anything. 


HESPERIDES. 

We  die 
As  your  hours  do,  and  dry 

Away, 

Like  to  the  summer's  rain  ; 
Or  as  the  pearls  of  morning's  dew, 
Ne'er  to  be  found  again. 


65 
15 


319.      A   NEW   YEAR'S   GIFT   SENT  TO    SIR    SIMEON 
STEWARD. 

No  news  of  navies  burnt  at  seas ; 
No  noise  of  late-spawn'd  Tityries, 
No  closet  plot  or  open  vent, 
That  frights  men  with  a  Parliament ; 
No  new  device  or  late  found  trick, 
To  read  by  th'  stars  the  kingdom's  sick ; 
No  gin  to  catch  the  State,  or  wring 
The  free-born  nosthril  of  the  King, 
We  send  to  you  ;  but  here  a  jolly 
Verse  crowned  with  ivy  and  with  holly ; 
That  tells  of  winter's  tales  and  mirth, 
That  milk-maids  make  about  the  hearth ; 
Of  Christmas  sports,  the  wassail-bowl, 
That  tost  up  after  Fox-i'-th'-hole  ; 
Of  Blind-man-buff,  and  of  the  care 
That  young  men  have  to  shoe  the  mare ; 
Of  Twelf-tide  cakes,  of  peas  and  beans, 
Wherewith  ye  make  those  merry  scenes, 
Whenas  ye  choose  your  king  and  queen, 
And  cry  out,  Hey  for  our  town  green. 
Of  ash-heaps,  in  the  which  ye  use 
Husbands  and  wives  by  streaks  to  choose; 
Of  crackling  laurel,  which  fore-sounds 
A  plenteous  harvest  to  your  grounds ; 


20 


66  HESPERIDES. 

Of  these,  and  such  like  things,  for  shift,  25 

We  send  instead  of  New-year's  gift : 

Read  then,  and  when  your  faces  shine 

With  buxom  meat  and  cap'ring  wine, 

Remember  us  in  cups  full  crown'd, 

And  let  our  city-health  go  round,  30 

Quite  through  the  young  maids  and  the  men, 

To  the  ninth  number,  if  not  ten  ; 

Until  the  fired  chestnuts  leap 

For  joy  to  see  the  fruits  ye  reap 

From  the  plump  chalice  and  the  cup  35 

That  tempts  till  it  be  tossed  up. 

Then  as  ye  sit  about  your  embers, 

Call  not  to  mind  those  fled  Decembers ; 

But  think  on  these  that  are  t'  appear 

As  daughters  to  the  instant  year ;  4° 

Sit  crown'd  with  rose-buds,  and  carouse, 

Till  Liber  Pater  twirls  the  house 

About  your  ears,  and  lay  upon 

The  year  your  cares,  that's  fled  and  gone. 

And  let  the  russet  swains  the  plough  45 

And  harrow  hang  up  resting  now ; 

And  to  the  bagpipe  all  address, 

Till  sleep  takes  place  of  weariness. 

And  thus,  throughout,  with  Christmas  plays 

Frolic  the  full  twelve  holy-days.  50 


323.     THE   CHRISTIAN   MILITANT. 

A  MAN  prepar'd  against  all  ills  to  come, 
That  dares  to  dead  the  fire  of  martyrdom ; 
That  sleeps  at  home,  and  sailing  there  at  ease, 
Fears  not  the  fierce  sedition  of  the  seas ; 


HESPERIDES.  67 

That's  counter-proof  against  the  farm's  mishaps,  5 

Undreadful,  too,  of  courtly  thunderclaps  ; 

That  wears  one  face,  like  heaven,  and  never  shows 

A  change,  when  fortune  either  comes  or  goes  ; 

That  keeps  his  own  strong  guard,  in  the  despite 

Of  what  can  hurt  by  day,  or  harm  by  night ;  10 

That  takes  and  re-delivers  every  stroke 

Of  chance,  as  made  up  all  of  rock  and  oak ; 

That  sighs  at  others'  death,  smiles  at  his  own 

Most  dire  and  horrid  crucifixion : 

Who  for  true  glory  suffers  thus,  we  grant  15 

Him  to  be  here  our  Christian  militant. 

324.     A   SHORT   HYMN   TO   LAR. 

THOUGH  I  cannot  give  thee  fires 
Glitt'ring  to  my  free  desires ; 
These  accept,  and  I'll  be  free, 
Offering  poppy  unto  thee. 

325.     ANOTHER   TO   NEPTUNE. 

MIGHTY  Neptune,  may  it  please 

Thee,  the  rector  of  the  seas, 

That  my  barque  may  safely  run 

Through  thy  wat'ry  region, 

And  a  tunny-fish  shall  be  5 

Offer'd  up  with  thanks  to  thee. 

327.     HIS   EMBALMING:   TO   JULIA. 

FOR  my  embalming,  Julia,  do  but  this, 
Give  thou  my  lips  but  their  supremest  kiss ; 
Or  else  transfuse  thy  breath  into  the  chest 
Where  my  small  reliques  must  for  ever  rest; 


68  HESPERIDES. 

That  breath  the  balm,  the  myrrh,  the  nard  shall  be, 
To  give  an  incorruption  unto  me. 

333.    TO   LAR. 

No  more  shall  I,  since  I  am  driven  hence, 

Devote  to  thee  my  grains  of  frankincense ; 

No  more  shall  I  from  mantle-trees  hang  down. 

To  honor  thee,  my  little  parsley  crown  ; 

No  more  shall  I,  I  fear  me,  to  thee  bring 

My  chives  of  garlic  for  an  offering ; 

No  more  shall  I,  from  henceforth,  hear  a  quire 

Of  merry  crickets  by  my  country  fire. 

Go  where  I  will,  thou  lucky  Lar  stay  here, 

Warm  by  a  glitt'ring  chimney  all  the  year. 

334.  THE  DEPARTURE  OF  THE  GOOD  DEMON. 

WHAT  can  I  do  in  poetry, 
Now  the  good  spirit's  gone  from  me  ? 
Why  nothing  now,  but  lonely  sit, 
And  over-read  what  I  have  writ. 

336.      HIS   AGE. 

Dedicated  to  his  Peculiar  Friend,  M.  JOHN  WlCKES, 
Under  the  name  of  Posthumus. 

AH  Posthumus  !  our  years  hence  fly, 
And  leave  no  sound ;  nor  piety, 

Or  prayers,  or  vow 
Can  keep  the  wrinkle  from  the  brow ; 

But  we  must  on, 

As  fate  does  lead  or  draw  us ;  none, 
None,  Posthumus,  could  e'er  decline 
*  The  doom  of  cruel  Proserpine. 


HESPERIDES.  69 

The  pleasing  wife,  the  house,  the  ground 

Must  all  be  left,  no  one  plant  found  10 

To  follow  thee, 
Save  only  the  curs'd  cypress  tree  ; 

A  merry  mind 

Looks  forward,  scorns  what's  left  behind ; 
Let's  live,  my  Wickes,  then,  while  we  may,  15 

And  here  enjoy  our  holiday. 

Wave  seen  the  past-best  times,  and  these 
Will  ne'er  return  ;  we  see  the  seas, 

And  moons  to  wane, 
But  they  fill  up  their  ebbs  again ;  20 

But  vanish'd  man, 
Like  to  a  lily  lost,  ne'er  can, 
Ne'er  can  repullulate,  or  bring 
His  days  to  see  a  second  spring. 

But  on  we  must,  and  thither  tend,  25 

Where  Ancus  and  rich  Tullus  blend 

Their  sacred  seed ; 
Thus  has  infernal  Jove  decreed ; 

We  must  be  made 

Ere  long  a  song,  ere  long  a  shade.  30 

Why  then,  since  life  to  us  is  short, 
Let's  make  it  full  up  by  our  sport. 

Crown  we  our  heads  with  roses,  then, 
And  'noint  with  Tyrian  balm  ;  for  when 

We  two  are  dead,  35 

The  world  with  us  is  buried. 

Then  live  we  free 
As  is  the  air,  and  let  us  be 
Our  own  fair  wind,  and  mark  each  one 
Day  with  the  white  and  lucky  stone.  4° 


70  HESPERIDES. 

We  are  not  poor,  although  we  have 
No  roofs  of  cedar,  nor  our  brave 

Baiae,  nor  keep 
Account  of  such  a  flock  of  sheep, 

Nor  bullocks  fed  45 

To  lard  the  shambles,  barbels  bred 
To  kiss  our  hands ;  nor  do  we  wish 
For  Pollio's  lampreys  in  our  dish. 

If  we  can  meet,  and  so  confer, 

Both  by  a  shining  salt-cellar,  50 

And  have  our  roof, 
Although  not  arch'd,  yet  weather-proof, 

And  ceiling  free 

From  that  cheap  candle-baudery,- 
We'll  eat  our  bean  with  that  full  mirth,  55 

As  we  were  lords  of  all  the  earth. 

Well,  then,  on  what  seas  we  are  toss'd, 
Our  comfort  is,  we  can't  be  lost. 

Let  the  winds  drive 
Our  bark,  yet  she  will  keep  alive  60 

Amidst  the  deeps ; 

'Tis  constancy,  my  Wickes,  which  keeps 
The  pinnace  up ;  which  though  she  errs 
F  th'  seas,  she  saves  her  passengers. 

Say,  we  must  part ;  sweet  mercy  bless  65 

Us  both  i'  th'  sea,  camp,  wilderness ! 

Can  we  so  far 
Stray  to  become  less  circular 

Than  we  are  now? 

No,  no,  that  self-same  heart,  that  vow  70 

Which  made  us  one,  shall  ne'er  undo, 
Or  ravel  so,  to  make  us  two. 


HESPERIDES.  71 

Live  in  thy  peace ;  as  for  myself, 
When  I  am  bruised  on  the  shelf 

Of  time,  and  show  75 

My  locks  behung  with  frost  and  snow ; 

When  with  the  rheum, 
The  cough,  the  ptisic,  I  consume 
Unto  an  almost  nothing  ;  then, 
The  ages  fled,  I'll  call  again,  80 

And  with  a  tear  compare  these  last 
Lame  and  bad  times  with  those  are  past, 

While  Baucis  by, 
My  old  lean  wife,  shall  kiss  it  dry  ; 

And  so  we'll  sit  85 

By  th'  fire,  foretelling  snow  and  slit, 
And  weather  by  our  aches,  grown 
Now  old  enough  to  be  our  own 

True  calendars,  as  puss's  ear 

Wash'd  o'er  's  to  tell  what  change  is  near ;  9° 

Then,  to  assuage 
The  gripings  of  the  chine  by  age, 

I'll  call  my  young 
lulus  to  sing  such  a  song 

I  made  upon  my  Julia's  breast,  95 

And  of  her  blush  at  such  a  feast. 

Then  shall  he  read  that  flow'r  of  mine 
Enclos'd  within  a  crystal  shrine ; 

A  primrose  next. 
A  piece  then  of  a  higher  text.  100 


Thus  frantic  crazy  man,  God  wot, 
I'll  call  to  mind  things  half  forgot; 


72  HESPERIDES. 

* 

And  oft  between  115 

Repeat  the  times  that  I  have  seen  ; 
Thus  ripe  with  tears, 
And  twisting  my  lulus'  hairs, 
Doting,  I'll  weep  and  say,  In  truth, 
Baucis,  these  were  my  sins  of  youth.  120 

Then  next  I'll  cause  my  hopeful  lad, 
If  a  wild  apple  can  be  had 

To  crown  the  hearth, 
Lar  thus  conspiring  with  our  mirth, 

Then  to  infuse  125 

Our  browner  ale  into  the  cruse  ; 
Which,  sweetly  spic'd,  we'll  first  carouse 
Unto  the  genius  of  the  house. 

Then  the  next  health  to  friends  of  mine, 

Loving  the  brave  Burgundian  wine,  13° 

High  sons  of  pith, 
Whose  fortunes  I  have  frolick'd  with ; 

Such  as  could  well 
Bear  up  the  magic  bough  and  spell ; 
And  dancing  'bout  the  mystic  Thyrse,  135 

Give  up  the  just  applause  to  verse. 

To  those,  and  then  again  to  thee, 
We'll  drink,  my  Wickes,  until  we  be 

Plump  as  the  cherry, 
Though  not  so  fresh,  yet  full  as  merry  140 

As  the  cricket, 

The  untam'd  heifer,  or  the  pricket, 
Until  our  tongues  shall  tell  our  ears 
Ware  younger  by  a  score  of  years. 


HESPERIDES.  73 

Thus,  till  we  see  the  fire  less  shine  145 

From  th'  embers  than  the  killing's  eyne, 

We'll  still  sit  up, 
Sphering  about  the  wassail  cup 

To  all  those  times 

Which  gave  me  honor  for  my  rhymes.  152 

The  coal  once  spent,  we'll  then  to  bed, 
Far  more  than  night-bewearied. 

337.     A   SHORT   HYMN   TO  VENUS. 

GODDESS,  I  do  love  a  girl 

Ruby-lipp'd  and  tooth'd  with  pearl ; 

If  so  be  I  may  but  prove 

Lucky  in  this  maid  I  love, 

I  will  promise  there  shall  be  5 

Myrtles  offer'd  up  to  thee. 

345.     THE   POWER  IN  THE   PEOPLE. 

LET  kings  command,  and  do  the  best  they  may, 
The  saucy  subjects  still  will  bear  the  sway. 

359.     TO   THE   RIGHT   HONORABLE   PHILIP,   EARL 
OF    PEMBROKE   AND   MONTGOMERY. 

How  dull  and  dead  are  books,  that  cannot  show 

A  Prince  of  Pembroke,  and  that  Pembroke  you ! 

You,  who  are  high  born,  and  a  lord  no  less 

Free  by  your  fate  than  fortune's  mightiness, 

Who  hug  our  poems,  honor'd  sir,  and  then  5 

The  paper  gild,  and  laureate  the  pen. 

Nor  suffer  you  the  poets  to  sit  cold, 

But  warm  their  wits,  and  turn  their  lines  to  gold. 


74  HESPERIDES. 

Others  there  be,  who  righteously  will  swear 

Those  smooth-pac'd  numbers  amble  everywhere,  10 

And  these  brave  measures  go  a  stately  trot ; 

Love  those  like  these  ;  regard,  reward  them  not. 

But  you,  my  lord,  are  one  whose  hand  along 

Goes  with  your  mouth,  or  does  outrun  your  tongue, 

Paying  before  you  praise,  and  cock'ring  wit,  15 

Give  both  the  gold  and  garland  unto  it. 

360.     A   HYMN   TO   JUNO. 

STATELY  goddess,  do  thou  please, 

Who  art  chief  at  marriages, 

But  to  dress  the  bridal  bed, 

When  my  love  and  I  shall  wed ; 

And  a  peacock  proud  shall  be  5 

Offer'd  up  by  us  to  thee. 

366.     UPON    HIMSELF. 

THOU  shalt  not  all  die ;  for  while  Love's  fire  shines 
Upon  his  altar,  men  shall  read  thy  lines  ; 
And  learn'd  musicians  shall,  to  honor  Herrick's 
Fame,  and  his  name,  both  set  and  sing  his  lyrics. 

367.     UPON   WRINKLES. 

WRINKLES  no  more  are,  or  no  less 
Than  beauty  turn'd  to  sowerness. 

371.     HIS   LACHRIM^E;    OR,    MIRTH   TURN'D   TO 
MOURNING. 

CALL  me  no  more, 
As  heretofore, 


HESPERIDES.  75 

The  music  of  a  feast ; 

Since  now,  alas ! 

The  mirth  that  was  5 

In  me,  is  dead  or  ceas'd. 

Before  I  went 

To  banishment, 
Into  the  loathed  West, 

I  could  rehearse  10 

A  lyric  verse, 
And  speak  it  with  the  best. 

But  time,  Ai  me  ! 

Has  laid,  I  see, 
My  organ  fast  asleep ;  15 

And  turn'd  my  voice 

Into  the  noise 
Of  those  that  sit  and  weep. 


375.     TO  THE   MOST   FAIR   AND   LOVELY    MISTRESS 
ANNE   SOAME,    NOW   LADY   ABDIE. 

So  smell  those  odors  that  do  rise 

From  out  the  wealthy  spiceries  ; 

So  smells  the  flow'r  of  blooming  clove, 

Or  roses  smother'd  in  the  stove ; 

So  smells  the  air  of  spiced  wine, 

Or  essences  of  jessamine ; 

So  smells  the  breath  about  the  hives, 

When  well  the  work  of  honey  thrives, 

And  all  the  busy  factors  come 

Laden  with  wax  and  honey  home ; 

So  smell  those  neat  and  woven  bowers, 

All  over-arch'd  with  orange  flowers, 


76  HESPERIDES. 

And  almond  blossoms,  that  do  mix 

To  make  rich  these  aromatics ; 

So  smell  those  bracelets,  and  those  bands  15 

Of  amber  chaf'd  between  the  hands, 

When  thus  enkindled,  they  transpire 

A  noble  perfume  from  the  fire. 

The  wine  of  cherries,  and  to  these 

The  cooling  breath  of  respasses,  20 

The  smell  of  morning's  milk  and  cream, 

Butter  of  cowslips  mix'd  with  them, 

Of  roasted  warden,  or  bak'd  pear, 

These  are  not  to  be  reckon'd  here ; 

Whenas  the  meanest  part  of  her  25 

Smells  like  the  maiden-pomander. 

Thus  sweet  she  smells,  or  what  can  be 

More  lik'd  by  her,  or  lov'd  by  me. 

386.     A    VOW   TO   MARS. 

STORE  of  courage  to  me  grant, 

Now  I'm  turn'd  a  combatant ; 

Help  me,  so  that  I  my  shield, 

Fighting,  lose  not  in  the  field. 

That's  the  greatest  shame  of  all  5 

That  in  warfare  can  befall. 

Do  but  this,  and  there  shall  be 

Offer'd  up  a  wolf  to  thee. 

387.     TO   HIS   MAID    PREW. 

THESE  summer  birds  did  with  thy  master  stay 
The  times  of  warmth,  but  then  they  flew  away, 
Leaving  their  poet,  being  now  grown  old, 
Expos'd  to  all  the  coming  winter's  cold. 


HESPERIDES.  77 

But  thou,  kind  Prew,  did'st  with  my  fates  abide  5 

As  well  the  winter's  as  the  summer's  tide  ; 
For  which  thy  love,  live  with  thy  master  here, 
Not  one,  but  all  the  seasons  of  the  year. 

391.      HOW    PANSIES,   OR    HEARTEASE,   CAME    FIRST. 

FROLIC  virgins  once  these  were, 

Over-loving,  living  here ; 

Being  here  their  ends  deny'd, 

Ran  for  sweethearts  mad,  and  died. 

Love,  in  pity  of  their  tears,  5 

And  their  loss  in  blooming  years, 

For  their  restless  here-spent  hours 

Gave  them  heartsease  turned  to  flow'rs. 

393.     LAR'S    PORTION   AND   THE    POET'S    PART. 

AT  my  homely  country-seat, 
I  have  there  a  little  wheat, 
•  Which  I  work  to  meal,  and  make 

Therewithal  a  holy-cake ; 

Part  of  which  I  give  to  Lar,  5 

Part  is  my  peculiar. 

413.     THE   MAD   MAID'S    SONG. 

GOOD  morrow  to  the  day  so  fair ; 

Good  morning,  sir,  to  you  ; 
Good  morrow  to  mine  own  torn  hair, 

Bedabbled  with  the  dew. 

Good  morning  to  this  primrose  too  ;  5 

Good  morrow  to  each  maid 
That  will  with  flowers  the  tomb  bestrew 

Wherein  my  love  is  laid. 


78  HESPERIDES. 

Ah  !  woe  is  me,  woe,  woe  is  me, 

Alack,  and  well-a-day  !  10 

For  pity,  sir,  find  out  that  bee 

Which  bore  my  love  away. 

I'll  seek  him  in  your  bonnet  brave ; 

I'll  seek  him  in  your  eyes ; 
Nay,  now  I  think  th'  ave  made  his  grave  15 

I'th'  bed  of  strawberries. 

I'll  seek  him  there ;  I  know,  ere  this, 

The  cold,  cold  earth  doth  shake  him ; 

But  I  will  go,  or  send  a  kiss 

By  you,  sir,  to  awake  him.  20 

Pray  hurt  him  not ;  though  he  be  dead, 
He  knows  well  who  do  love  him  ; 

And  who  with  green  turfs  rear  his  head, 
And  who  do  rudely  move  him. 

He's  soft  and  tender,  pray  take  heed :  25 

With  bands  of  cowslips  bind  him, 

And  bring  him  home ;  but  'tis  decreed, 
That  I  shall  never  find  him. 


420.     UPON   BRIDGET.     EPIG. 

OF  four  teeth  only  Bridget  was  possess'd ; 
Two  she  spat  out,  a  cough  forc'd  out  the  rest. 


421.     TO   SYCAMORES. 

I'M  sick  of  love ;  O  let  me  lie 
Under  your  shades,  to  sleep  or  die  ! 
Either  is  welcome  ;  so  I  have 
Or  here  my  bed,  or  here  my  grave. 


HESPERIDES.  79 

Why  do  you  sigh  and  sob,  and  keep  5 

Time  with  the  tears  that  I  do  weep  ? 

Say,  have  ye  sense,  or  do  you  prove 

What  crucifixions  are  in  love  ? 

I  know  ye  do  ;  and  that's  the  why 

You  sigh  for  love  as  well  as  I.  10 

436.     UPON    PARSON   BEANS. 

OLD  Parson  Beans  hunts  six  days  of  the  week, 
And  on  the  seventh  he  has  his  notes  to  seek ; 
Six  days  he  hollows  so  much  breath  away, 
That  on  the  seventh  he  can  nor  preach  or  pray. 

439.     POLICY    IN   PRINCES. 

THAT  Princes  may  possess  a  surer  seat, 

'Tis  fit  they  make  no  One  with  them  too  great. 

442.     TO   DAISIES,    NOT   TO   SHUT   SO   SOON. 

SHUT  not  so  soon ;  the  dull-ey'd  night 

Has  not  as  yet  begun 
To  make  a  seizure  on  the  light, 

Or  to  seal  up  the  sun. 

No  marigolds  yet  closed  are,  5 

No  shadows  great  appear ; 
Nor  doth  the  early  shepherd's  star 

Shine  like  a  spangle  here. 

Stay  but  till  my  Julia  close 

Her  life -begetting  eye  ;  10 

And  let  the  whole  world  then  dispose 

Itself  to  live  or  die. 


80  IIESPERIDES. 

443.     TO   THE    LITTLE   SPINNERS. 

YE  pretty  huswives,  would  ye  know 

The  work  that  I  would  put  ye  to  ? 

This,  this  it  should  be,  for  to  spin 

A  lawn  for  me,  so  fine  and  thin 

As  it  might  serve  me  for  my  skin.  5 

For  cruel  love  has  me  so  whipp'd, 

That  of  my  skin  I  all  am  stripp'd, 

And  shall  despair  that  any  art 

Can  ease  the  rawness  or  the  smart, 

Unless  you  skin  again  each  part.  10 

Which  mercy,  if  you  will  but  do, 

1  call  all  maids  to  witness  to 

What  here  I  promise,  that  no  broom 

Shall  now,  or  ever  after,  come 

To  wrong  a  Spinner  or  her  loom.  15 

444.     OBERON'S    PALACE. 
[Placed  after  223.] 

446.     TO   JULIA    IN   THE   TEMPLE. 

BESIDES  us  two,  i'  th'  Temple  here's  not  one 

To  make  up  now  a  congregation. 

Let's  to  the  altar  of  perfumes  then  go, 

And  say  short  prayers :  and  when  we  have  done  so, 

Then  we  shall  see,  how  in  a  little  space  5 

Saints  will  come  in  to  fill  each  pew  and  place. 

447.     TO   CENONE. 

WHAT  Conscience,  say,  is  it  in  thee 

When  I  a  heart  had  one, 
To  take  away  that  heart  from  me, 

And  to  retain  thy  own  ? 


tiESPERIDES.  8l 

For  shame  or  pity,  now  incline  5 

To  play  a  loving  part ; 
Either  to  send  me  kindly  thine, 

Or  give  me  back  my  heart. 

Covet  not  both ;  but  if  thou  dost 

Resolve  to  part  with  neither^  i& 

Why !  yet  to  show  that  thou  art  just^ 

Take  me  and  mine  together. 

451.     TO   GROVES. 

YE  silent  shades,  whose  each  tree  here 

Some  relique  of  a  saint  doth  wear, 

Who  for  some  sweetheart's  sake  did  prove 

The  fire  and  martyrdom  of  love  : 

Here  is  the  legend  of  those  saints  5 

That  died  for  love,  and  their  complaints  ; 

Their  wounded  hearts  and  names  we  find 

Encarv'd  upon  the  leaves  and  rind. 

Give  way,  give  way  to  me,  who  come 

Scorch'd  with  the  self-same  martyrdom ;  10 

And  have  deserv'd  as  much,  Love  knows, 

As  to  be  canoniz'd  'mongst  those 

Whose  deeds  and  deaths  here  written  are 

Within  your  greeny  calendar. 

By  all  those  virgins'  fillets  hung  15 

Upon  your  boughs,  and  requiems  sung 

For  saints  and  souls  departed  hence, 

Here  honor'd  still  with  frankincense  ; 

By  all  those  tears  that  have  been  shed 

As  a  drink-offering  to  the  dead ;  20 

By  all  those  true  love-knots  that  be 

With  mottoes  carv'd  on  every  tree  ; 

By  sweet  St.  Phillis,  pity  me ! 


82  HESPERIDES. 

By  dear  St.  Iphis  and  the  rest 

Of  all  those  other  saints  now  blest.  25 

Me,  me  forsaken,  here  admit 

Among  your  myrtles  to  be  writ ; 

That  my  poor  name  may  have  the  glory 

To  live  rememb'red  in  your  .story. 


452.     AN   EPITAPH   UPON   A   VIRGIN. 

HERE  a  solemn  fast  we  keep, 
While  all  beauty  lies  asleep, 
Hush'd  be  all  things,  no  noise  here 
But  the  toning  of  a  tear ; 
Or  a  sigh  of  such  as  bring 
Cowslips  for  her  covering. 


462.     THE   PLUNDER. 

I  AM  of  all  bereft, 
Save  but  some  few  beans  left, 
Whereof,  at  last,  to  make 
For  me  and  mine  a  cake  ; 
Which  eaten,  they  and  I 
Will  say  our  grace,  and  die. 


469.     TO   BLOSSOMS. 

FAIR  pledges  of  a  fruitful  tree, 
Why  do  ye  fall  so  fast  ? 
Your  date  is  not  so  past, 

But  you  may  stay  yet  here  a  while, 
To  blush  and  gently  smile, 
And  go  at  last. 


HESPERIDES.  83 

What,  were  ye  born  to  be 

An  hour  or  half's  delight, 

And  so  to  bid  good-night  ? 
'Twas  pity  Nature  brought  ye  forth,  10 

Merely  to  show  your  worth, 
And  lose  you  quite. 

But  you  are  lovely  leaves,  where  we 

May  read  how  soon  things  have 

Their  end,  though  ne'er  so  brave  ;  15 

And  after  they  have  shown  their  pride 

Like  you  a  while,  they  glide 
Into  the  grave. 

475.     THE   OLD    WIVES'   PRAYER. 

HOLY-ROOD,  come  forth  and  shield 

Us  i'th'  city  and  the  field : 

Safely  guard  us,  now  and  aye, 

From  the  blast  that  burns  by  day, 

And  those  sounds  that  us  affright  5 

In  the  dead  of  dampish  night ; 

Drive  all  hurtful  fiends  us  fro, 

By  the  time  the  cocks  first  crow. 

477.     UPON   HIS   DEPARTURE   HENCE. 

THUS  I 

Pass  by, 

And  die, 

As  one 

Unknown  5 

And  gone : 

I'm  made 

A  shade, 


tiESPERIDES. 

And  laid 

I'th'  grave,  fd 

There  have 

My  cave : 

Where  tell 

I  dwell, 

Farewell.  15 

478.     THE   WASSAIL. 

GIVE  way,  give  way,  ye  gates,  and  win 
An  easy  blessing  to  your  bin 
And  basket,  by  our  ent'ring  in. 

May  both  with  manchet  stand  replete, 

Your  larders,  too,  so  hung  with  meat,  5 

That  though  a  thousand,  thousand  eat, 

Yet  ere  twelve  moons  shall  whirl  about 
Their  silv'ry  spheres,  there's  none  may  doubt 
But  more's  sent  in  than  was  serv'd  out. 

Next,  may  your  dairies  prosper  so  10 

As  that  your  pans  no  ebb  may  know ; 
But  if  they  do,  the  more  to  flow 

Like  to  a  solemn  sober  stream, 

Bank'd  all  with  lilies,  and  the  cream 

Of  sweetest  cowslips  filling  them.  15 

Then  may  your  plants  be  press'd  with  fruit, 
Nor  bee  or  hive  you  have  be  mute, 
But  sweetly  sounding  like  a  lute. 

Next  may  your  duck  and  teeming  hen 

Both  to  the  cock's  tread  say  Amen,  20 

And  for  their  two  eggs  render  ten. 


HESPERIDES.  85 

Last,  may  your  harrows,  shares,  and  ploughs, 
Your  stacks,  your  stocks,  your  sweetest  mows, 
All  prosper  by  our  virgin- vows. 

Alas !  we  bless,  but  see  none  here,  25 

That  brings  us  either  ale  or  beer ; 
In  a  dry  house  all  things  are  near. 

Let's  leave  a  longer  time  to  wait, 

Where  rust  and  cobwebs  bind  the  gate ; 

And  all  live  here  with  needy  fate ;  3° 

Where  chimneys  do  for  ever  weep 

For  want  of  warmth,  and  stomachs  keep 

With  noise  the  servants'  eyes  from  sleep. 

It  is  in  vain  to  sing,  or  stay 

Our  free  feet  here,  but  we'll  away;  35 

Yet  to  the  Lares  this  we'll  say : 

The  time  will  come  when  you'll  be  sad; 
And  reckon  this  for  fortune  bad, 
T'ave  lost  the  good  ye  might  have  had. 


486.     UPON   JULIA'S    HAIR   FILL'D   WITH   DEW. 

DEW  sat  on  Julia's  hair, 

And  spangled  too, 
Like  leaves  that  laden  are 

With  trembling  dew ; 
Or  glitter'd  to  my  sight 

As  when  the  beams 
Have  their  reflected  light 

Danc'd  by  the  streams. 


86  HESPERIDES. 

488.     LOSS    FROM   THE    LEAST. 

GREAT  men  by  small  means  oft  are  overthrown ; 
He's  lord  of  thy  life  who  contemns  his  own. 

490.     SHAME   NO    STATIST. 

SHAME  is  a  bad  attendant  to  a  state ; 

He  rents  his  crown  that  fears  the  people's  hate. 

499.     UPON   A   FLY. 

A  GOLDEN  fly  one  show'd  to  me, 

Clos'd  in  a  box  of  ivory, 

Where  both  seem'd  proud  —  the  fly  to  have 

His  burial  in  an  ivory  grave ; 

The  ivory  took  state  to  hold  5 

A  corpse  as  bright  as  burnish'd  gold. 

One  fate  had  both  ;  both  equal  grace, 

The  buried  and  the  burying-place. 

Not  Virgil's  gnat,  to  whom  the  Spring 

All  flowers  sent  to  'is  burying;  10 

Not  Martial's  bee,  which  in  a  bead 

Of  amber  quick  was  buried  ; 

Nor  that  fine  worm  that  does  inter 

Herself  i'  th'  silken  sepulchre  ; 

Nor  my  rare  Phil,  that  lately  was  15 

With  lilies  tomb'd  up  in  a  glass, 

More  honour  had  than  this  same  fly, 

Dead,  and  clos'd  up  in  ivory. 

503.     UPON    PARRAT. 

PARRAT  protests  'tis  he,  and  only  he, 

Can  teach  a  min  the  Art  of  memory ; 

Believe  him  not,  for  he  forgot  it  quite, 

Being  drunk,  who  'twas  that  can'd  his  ribs  last  night. 


HESPERIDES.  87 

517.     HIS    WINDING-SHEET. 

COME  thou,  who  art  the  wine  and  wit 

Of  all  I've  writ ; 
The  grace,  the  glory,  and  the  best 

Piece  of  the  rest ; 
Thou  art  of  what  I  did  intend  5 

The  all  and  end ; 
And  what  was  made,  was  made  to  meet 

Thee,  thee,  my  sheet ; 
Come  then,  and  be  to  my  chaste  side 

Both  bed  and  bride.  10 

We  two,  as  reliques  left,  will  have 

One  rest,  one  grave-, 
And,  hugging  close,  we  will  not  fear 

Lust  ent'ring  here, 
Where  all  desires  are  dead  or  cold,  15 

As  is  the  mould ; 
And  all  affections  are  forgot, 

Or  trouble  not. 
Here,  here  the  slaves  and  pris'ners  be 

From  shackles  free,  20 

And  weeping  widows,  long  oppress'd, 

Do  here  find  rest. 
The  wronged  client  ends  his  laws 

Here,  and  his  cause  ; 
Here  those  long  suits  of  Chancery  lie  25 

Quiet,  or  die, 
And  all  Star  Chamber  bills  do  cease, 

Or  hold  their  peace. 
Here  needs  no  Court  for  our  Request, 

Where  all  are  best,  3° 

All  wise,  all  equal,  and  all  just 

Alike  i'th'  dust. 


88  HESPERIDES. 

Nor  need  we  here  to  fear  the  frown 

Of  court  or  crown, 
Where  Fortune  bears  no  sway  o'er  things,  35 

There  all  are  kings. 
In  this  securer  place  we'll  keep, 

As  lull'd  asleep ; 
Or  for  a  little  time  we'll  lie, 

As  robes  laid  by,  40 

To  be  another  day  re-worn, 

Turn'd,  but  not  torn; 
Or  like  old  testaments  ingross'd, 

Lock'd  up,  not  lost ; 
And  for  a  while  lie  here  conceal'd,  45 

To  be  reveal'd 
Next,  at  that  great  Platonic  Year, 

And  then  meet  here. 


523.      TO   PHILLIS    TO    LOVE,   AND    LIVE   WITH    HIM. 

LIVE,  live  with  me,  and  thou  shalt  see 
The  pleasures  I'll  prepare  for  thee. 
What  sweets  the  country  can  afford 
Shall  bless  thy  bed,  and  bless  thy  board. 
The  soft  sweet  moss  shall  be  thy  bed, 
With  crawling  woodbine  overspread ; 
By  which  the  silver-shedding  streams 
Shall  gently  melt  thee  into  dreams. 
Thy  clothing  next  shall  be  a  gown 
Made  of  the  fleece's  purest  down  ; 
The  tongues  of  kids  shall  be  thy  meat, 
Their  milk  thy  drink,  and  thou  shalt  eat 
The  paste  of  filberts  for  thy  bread, 
With  cream  of  cowslips  buttered. 


HESPERIDES.  89 

Thy  feasting-tables  shall  be  hills  15 

With  daisies  spread,  and  daffodils ; 

Where  thou  shalt  sit,  and  redbreast  by 

For  meat  shall  give  thee  melody. 

I'll  give  thee  chains  and  carcanets 

Of  primroses  and  violets.  20 

A  bag  and  bottle  thou  shalt  have, 

That  richly  wrought,  and  this  as  brave ; 

So  that  as  either  shall  express 

The  wearer's  no  mean  shepherdess. 

At  shearing-time  and  yearly  wakes,  25 

When  Themilis  his  pastime  makes, 

There  thou  shalt  be,  and  be  the  wit, 

Nay,  more,  the  feast,  and  grace  of  it. 

On  holy  days,  when  virgins  meet 

To  dance  the  heyes  with  nimble  feet,  30 

Thou  shalt  come  forth,  and  then  appear 

The  Queen  of  Roses  for  that  year  ; 

And  having  danc'd,  'bove  all  the  best, 

Carry  the  garland  from  the  rest. 

In  wicker  baskets  maids  shall  bring  35 

To  thee,  my  dearest  shepharling, 

The  blushing  apple,  bashful  pear, 

And  shame-fac'd  plum,  all  simp'ring  there. 

Walk  in  the  groves,  and  thou  shalt  find 

The  name  of  Phillis  in  the  rind  4° 

Of  every  straight  and  smooth-skin  tree ; 

Where,  kissing  that,  I'll  twice  kiss  thee. 

To  thee  a  sheep-hook  I  will  send, 

Beprank'd  with  ribands,  to  this  end, 

This,  this  alluring  hook  might  be  45 

Less  for  to  catch  a  sheep  than  me. 

Thou  shalt  have  possets,  wassails  fine, 

Not  made  of  ale,  but  spiced  wine ; 


90  HESPERIDES. 

To  make  thy  maids  and  self  free  mirth, 

All  sitting  near  the  glitt'ring  hearth.  50 

Thou  sha't  have  ribbands,  roses,  rings, 

Gloves,  garters,  stockings,  shoes,  and  strings 

Of  winning  colors,  that  shall  move 

Others  to  lust,  but  me  to  love. 

These,  nay,  and  more,  thine  own  shall  be,  55 

If  thou  wilt  love  and  live  with  me. 


525.      UPON    MISTRESS    SUSANNA    SOUTHWELL   HER 
CHEEKS. 

RARE  are  thy  cheeks,  Susanna,  which  do  show 
Ripe  cherries  smiling,  while  that  others  blow. 


526.     UPON    HER   EYES. 

CLEAR  are  her  eyes, 

Like  purest  skies ; 
Discovering  from  thence 

A  baby  there 

That  turns  each  sphere, 
Like  an  Intelligence. 


527.     UPON    HER    FEET. 

HER  pretty  feet 
Like  snails  did  creep 
A  little  out,  and  then, 
As  if  they  started  at  bo-peep, 
Did  soon  draw  in  again. 


HESPERIDES.  91 

532.     A   VOW    TO   MINERVA. 

GODDESS,  I  begin  an  art ; 

Come  thou  in  with  thy  best  part, 

For  to  make  the  texture  lie 

Each  way  smooth  and  civilly ; 

And  a  broad-fac'd  owl  shall  be  .  5 

Offer'd  up  with  vows  to  thee. 


538.     ILL   GOVERNMENT. 

PREPOSTEROUS  is  that  government,  and  rude, 
When  kings  obey  the  wilder  multitude. 


541.     TO  JULIA,  THE  FLAMINICA  DIALIS,  OR  QUEEN- 
PRIEST. 

THOU  know'st,  my  Julia,  that  it  is  thy  turn 

This  morning's  incense  to  prepare  and  burn. 

The  chaplet  and  inarculum  here  be, 

With  the  white  vestures,  all  attending  thee. 

This  day  the  Queen-Priest  thou  art  made,  t'appease         5 

Love  for  our  very  many  trespasses. 

One  chief  transgression  is,  among  the  rest, 

Because  with  flowers  her  temple  was  not  dress'd ; 

The  next,  because  her  altars  did  not  shine 

With  daily  fires  ;   the  last,  neglect  of  wine  :  10 

For  which,  her  wrath  is  gone  forth  to  consume 

Us  all,  unless  preserv'd  by  thy  perfume. 

Take  then  thy  censer ;  put  in  fire,  and  thus, 

O  pious  Priestess  !  make  a  peace  for  us. 

For  our  neglect,  Love  did  our  death  decree;  15 

That  we  escape,  redemption  comes  by  thee. 


92  HESPERIDES. 

•> 
546.     AN   ODE   TO   SIR   CLIPSEBY   CREW. 

HERE  we  securely  live,  and  eat 

The  cream  of  meat ; 
And  keep  eternal  fires, 
By  which  we  sit,  and  do  divine 

As  wine  5 

And  rage  inspires. 

If  full,  we  charm ;  then  call  upon 

Anacreon 

To  grace  the  frantic  thyrse  : 
And  having  drunk,  we  raise  a  shout  10 

Throughout, 
To  praise  his  verse. 

Then  cause  we  Horace  to  be  read, 
Which  sung  or  said, 

A  goblet,  to  the  brim,  1 5 

Of  lyric  wine,  both  swell'd  and  crown'd, 

Around 
We  quaff  to  him. 

Thus,  thus  we  live,  and  spend  the  hours 

In  wine  and  flowers ;  20 

And  make  the  frolic  year, 
The  month,  the  week,  the  instant  day, 

To  stay 
The  longer  here. 

Come  then,  brave  knight,  and  see  the  cell  25 

Wherein  I  dwell, 
And  my  enchantments  too; 
Which  love  and  noble  freedom  is, 

And  this 
Shall  fetter  you.  3.0 


HESPERIDES.  93 

Take  horse,  and  come  ;  or  be  so  kind 

To  send  your  mind, 
Though  but  in  numbers  few, 
And  I  shall  think  I  have  the  heart, 

Or  part,  35 

Of  Clipseby  Crew. 


547.      TO    HIS    WORTHY    KINSMAN,    MR.    STEPHEN 
SOAME. 

NOR  is  my  number  full,  till  I  inscribe 

Thee,  sprightly  Soame,  one  of  my  righteous  tribe  : 

A  tribe  of  one  lip-leaven,  and  of  one 

Civil  behavior  and  religion  : 

A  stock  of  saints,  where  every  one  doth  wear 

A  stole  of  white,  and  canonized  here ; 

Among  which  holies  be  thou  ever  known, 

Brave  kinsman,  mark'd  out  with  the  whiter  stone ; 

Which  seals  thy  glory,  since  I  do  prefer 

Thee  here  in  my  eternal  calendar. 

548.     TO   HIS   TOMB-MAKER. 

Go  I  must ;  when  I  am  gone, 
Write  but  this  upon  my  stone  : 
Chaste  I  liv'd,  without  a  wife, 
That's  the  story  of  my  life. 
Strewings  need  none,  every  flower 
Is  in  this  word,  bachelor. 

549.     GREAT    SPIRITS    SUPERVIVE. 

OUR  mortal  parts  may  wrapp'd  in  cere-cloths  lie ; 
Great  spirits  never  with  their  bodies  die, 


94  HESPERIDES. 

554.     HIS   CONTENT    IN   THE   COUNTRY. 

HERE,  here  I  live  with  what  my  board 
Can  with  the  smallest  cost  afford ; 
Though  ne'er  so  mean  the  viands  be, 
They  well  content  my  Prew  and  me  : 
Or  pea  or  bean,  or  wort  or  beet, 
Whatever  comes,  content  makes  sweet. 
Here  we  rejoice  because  no  rent 
We  pay  for  our  poor  tenement, 
Wherein  we  rest,  and  never  fear 
The  landlord  or  the  usurer. 
The  quarter-day  does  ne'er  affright 
Our  peaceful  slumbers  in  the  night ; 
We  eat  our  own,  and  batten  more 
Because  we  feed  on  no  man's  score ; 
But  pity  those  whose  flanks  grow  great 
SwelPd  with  the  lard  of  others'  meat. 
We  bless  our  fortunes  when  we  see 
Our  own  beloved  privacy; 
And  like  our  living,  where  w'are  known 
To  very  few,  or  else  to  none. 

556.     ON    HIMSELF. 

SOME  parts  may  perish,  die  thou  canst  not  all ; 
The  most  of  thee  shall  scape  the  funeral. 


577.     THE   APPARITION   OF    HIS    MISTRESS    CALLING 
HIM   TO   ELYSIUM. 

Desunt  nonnulla 


COME  then,  and  like  two  doves  with  silv'ry  wings, 
Let  our  souls  fly  to  th'  shades,  where  ever  springs 


HESPERIDES.  95 

Sit  smiling  in  the  meads ;  where  balm  and  oil, 

Roses  and  cassia,  crown  the  untill'd  soil ; 

Where  no  disease  reigns,  or  infection  comes  5 

To  blast  the  air,  but  amber-greece  and  gums. 

This,  that,  and  ev'ry  thicket  doth  transpire 

More  sweet  than  storax  from  the  hallowed  fire ; 

Where  ev'ry  tree  a  wealthy  issue  bears 

Of  fragrant  apples,  blushing  plums,  or  pears,  10 

And  all  the  shrubs,  with  sparkling  spangles,  shew 

Like  morning  sunshine,  tinselling  the  dew. 

Here  in  green  meadows  sits  eternal  May, 

Purfling  the  margents,  while  perpetual  day 

So  double  gilds  the  air,  as  that  no  night  15 

Can  ever  rust  th'  enamel  of  the  light ; 

Here  naked  younglings,  handsome  striplings,  run 

Their  goals  for  virgins'  kisses ;  which  when  done, 

Then  unto  dancing  forth  the  learned  round 

Commix'd  they  meet,  with  endless  roses  crown'd.  20 

And  here  we'll  sit  on  primrose-banks,  and  see 

Love's  chorus  led  by  Cupid ;  and  we'll  be 

Two  loving  followers  too  unto  the  grove 

Where  poets  sing  the  stories  of  our  love  : 

There  thou  shalt  hear  divine  Musasus  sing  25 

Of  Hero  and  Leander ;  then  I'll  bring 

Thee  to  the  stand,  where  honour'd  Homer  reads 

His  Odysseys  and  his  high  Iliads ; 

About  whose  throne  the  crowd  of  poets  throng 

To  hear  the  incantation  of  his  tongue  :  30 

To  Linus,  then  to  Pindar ;  and  that  done, 

I'll  bring  thee,  Herrick,  to  Anacreon, 

Quaffing  his  full-crown'd  bowls  of  burning  wine, 

And  in  his  raptures  speaking  lines  of  thine, 

Like  to  his  subject ;  and  as  his  frantic  35 

Looks  show  him  truly  Bacchanalian  like, 


96  HESPERIDES. 

Besmear'd  with  grapes,  welcome  he  shall  thee  thither, 

Where  both  may  rage,  both  drink  and  dance  together. 

Then  stately  Virgil,  witty  Ovid,  by 

Whom  fair  Corinna  sits,  and  doth  comply  4° 

With  ivory  wrists  his  laureate  head,  and  steeps 

His  eye  in  dew  of  kisses  while  he  sleeps ; 

Then  soft  Catullus,  sharp-fang'd  Martial, 

And  towering  Lucan,  Horace,  Juvenal, 

And  snaky  Persius  ;  these,  and  those  whom  rage  45 

Dropp'd  from  the  jars  of  heaven,  fill'd  t'  engage 

All  times  unto  their  frenzies ;  thou  shalt  there 

Behold  them  in  a  spacious  theatre. 

Among  which  glories,  crown'd  with  sacred  bays 

And  flatt'ring  ivy,  two  recite  their  plays,  50 

Beaumont  and  Fletcher,  swans,  to  whom  all  ears 

Listen,  while  they,  like  sirens  in  their  spheres, 

Sing  their  Evadne  :  and  still  more  for  thee 

There  yet  remains  to  know  than  thou  canst  see 

By  glimm'ring  of  a  fancy ;  do  but  come,  55 

And  there  I'll  show  thee  that  capacious  room 

In  which  thy  father,  Jonson,  now  is  plac'd, 

As  in  a  globe  of  radiant  fire  and  grac'd 

To  be  in  that  orb  crown'd,  that  doth  include 

Those  prophets  of  the  former  magnitude,  60 

And  he  one  chief.     But  hark,  I  hear  the  cock, 

The  bellman  of  the  night,  proclaim  the  clock 

Of  late  struck  one ;  and  now  I  see  the  prime 

Of  daybreak  from  the  pregnant  east,  'tis  time 

I  vanish ;  more  I  had  to  say,  65 

But  night  determines  here.     Away ! 


HESPERIDES.  97 


579.     UPON   URLES.     EPIG. 

URLES  had  the  gout  so,  that  he  could  not  stand 
Then  from  his  feet  it  shifted  to  his  hand ; 
When  'twas  in  's  feet  his  charity  was  small ; 
Now  'tis  in  's  hand,  he  gives  no  alms  at  all. 


582.     THE    PRIMROSE. 

ASK  me  why  I  send  you  here 
This  sweet  Infanta  of  the  year ; 

Ask  me  why  I  send  to  you 
This  Primrose,  thus  bepearl'd  with  dew: 

I  will  whisper  to  your  ears,  5 

The  sweets  of  love  are  mix'd  with  tears. 

Ask  me  why  this  flower  does  show 
So  yellow-green,  and  sickly  too ; 

Ask  me  why  the  stalk  is  weak, 
And  bending,  yet  it  does  not  break :  10 

I  will  answer,  these  discover 
What  fainting  hopes  are  in  a  lover. 


586.     TO   JULIA. 

THE  saints-bell  calls ;  and  Julia,  I  must  read 
The  proper  lessons  for  the  saints  now  dead ; 
To  grace  which  service,  Julia,  there  shall  be 
One  holy  collect  said  or  sung  for  thee. 
Dead  when  thou  art,  dear  Julia,  thou  shalt  have 
A  trental  sung  by  virgins  o'er  thy  grave  ; 
Meantime  we  two  will  sing  the  dirge  of  these, 
Who,  dead,  deserve  our  best  remembrances. 


98  HESPERIDES. 


598.     UPON   THE   TROUBLESOME   TIMES. 

O  TIMES  most  bad ! 
Without  the  scope 

Of  hope 
Of  better  to  be  had ! 

Where  shall  I  go,  5 

Or  whither  run 

To  shun 
This  public  overthrow  ? 

No  places  are, 

(This  I  am  sure)  10 

Secure 
In  this  our  wasting  war. 

Some  storms  w'ave  past ; 
Yet  we  must  all 

Down  fall,  15 

And  perish  at  the  last. 


'603.    SHIPWRACK. 

HE  who  has  suffer'd  shipwrack,  fears  to  sail 
Upon  the  seas,  though  with  a  gentle  gale. 


605.    TO   HIS   BOOK. 

BE  bold,  my  book,  nor  be  abash'd,  or  fear 
The  cutting  thumb-nail,  or  the  brow  severe ; 
But  by  the  Muses  swear,  all  here  is  good, 
If  but  well  read ;  or,  ill  read,  understood. 


HESPERIDES.  99 

606.  HIS  PRAYER  TO  BEN  JONSON. 

WHEN  I  a  verse  shall  make, 

Know  I  have  pray'd  thee, 
For  old  religion's  sake, 

Saint  Ben,  to  aid  me. 

Make  the  way  smooth  for  me,  5 

When  I,  thy  Herrick, 
Honoring  thee,  on  my  knee 

Offer  my  Lyric. 

Candles  I'll  give  to  thee, 

And  a  new  altar ;  10 

And  thou,  Saint  Ben,  shalt  be 

Writ  in  my  psalter. 

607.     POVERTY   AND   RICHES. 

GIVE  want  her  welcome,  if  she  comes  ;  we  find 
Riches  to  be  but  burthens  to  the  mind. 


608.     AGAIN. 

WHO  with  a  little  cannot  be  content 
Endures  an  everlasting  punishment. 

610.    LAWS. 

WHEN  laws  full  power  have  to  sway,  we  see 
Little  or  no  part  there  of  tyranny. 

618.     TO   THE   MAIDS   TO   WALK   ABROAD. 

COME,  sit  we  under  yonder  tree, 
Where  merry  as  the  maids  we'll  be ; 


100  HESPERIDES. 

And  as  on  primroses  we  sit, 

We'll  venture,  if  we  can,  at  wit, 

If  not,  at  draw-gloves  we  will  play,  5 

So  spend  some  minutes  of  the  day ; 

Or  else  spin  out  the  thread  of  sands, 

Playing  at  questions  and  commands, 

Or  tell  what  strange  tricks  love  can  do 

By  quickly  making  one  of  two.  10 

Thus  we  will  sit  and  talk,  but  tell 

No  cruel  truths  of  Philomel, 

Or  Phillis,  whom  hard  fate  forc'd  on 

To  kill  herself  for  Demophon. 

But  fables  we'll  relate — how  Jove  15 

Put  on  all  shapes  to  get  a  love, 

As  now  a  satyr,  then  a  swan, 

A  bull  but  then,  and  now  a  man. 

Next,  we  will  act  how  young  men  woo, 

And  sigh  and  kiss  as  lovers  do ;  20 

And  talk  of  brides,  and  who  shall  make 

That  wedding-smock,  this  bridal  cake, 

That  dress,  this  sprig,  that  leaf,  this  vine, 

That  smooth  and  silken  columbine. 

This  done,  we'll  draw  lots  who  shall  buy  25 

And  gild  the  bays  and  rosemary  ; 

What  posies  for  our  wedding  rings, 

What  gloves  we'll  give,  and  ribanings ; 

And  smiling  at  ourselves,  decree 

Who  then  the  joining  priest  shall  be ;  30 

What  short  sweet  prayers  shall  be  said, 

And  how  the  posset  shall  be  made 

With  cream  of  lilies,  not  of  kine, 

And  maiden's-blush  for  spiced  wine. 

Thus  having  talk'd,  we'll  next  commend  35 

A  kiss  to  each,  and  so  we'll  end. 


HESPERIDES.  101 

619.     HIS    OWN   EPITAPH. 

As  wearied  pilgrims,  once  possess'd 

Of  long'd-for  lodging,  go  to  rest ; 

So  I,  now  having  rid  my  way, 

Fix  here  my  button'd  staff  and  stay. 

Youth,  I  confess,  hath  me  misled,  5 

But  age  hath  brought  me  right  to  bed. 


621.     THE   NIGHT-PIECE,  TO   JULIA. 

HER  eyes  the  glow-worm  lend  thee, 
The  shooting  stars  attend  thee  ; 

And  the  elves  also, 

Whose  little  eyes  glow 
Like  the  sparks  of  fire,  befriend  thee.  5 

No  Will-o'-th'-Wisp  mislight  thee, 
Nor  snake  or  slow-worm  bite  thee  ; 

But  on,  on  thy  way, 

Not  making  a  stay, 
Since  ghost  there's  none  to  affright  thee.  10 

Let  not  the  dark  thee  cumber ; 

What  though  the  moon  does  slumber  ? 

The  stars  of  the  night 

Will  lend  thee  their  light, 
Like  tapers  clear  without  number.  15 

Then,  Julia,  let  me  woo  thee, 
Thus,  thus  to  come  unto  me ; 

And  when  I  shall  meet 

Thy  silv'ry  feet, 
My  soul  I'll  pour  into  thee.  20 


102  HESPERIDES. 


625.     GLORY. 

I  MAKE  no  haste  to  have  my  numbers  read ; 
Seldom  comes  glory  till  a  man  be  dead. 


626.     POETS. 

WANTONS  we  are ;  and  though  our  words  be  such, 
Our  lives  do  differ  from  our  lines  by  much. 


629.     HIS   CHARGE   TO   JULIA   AT   HIS    DEATH. 

DEAREST  of  thousands,  now  the  time  draws  near 

That  with  my  lines  my  life  must  full-stop  here. 

Cut  off  thy  hairs,  and  let  thy  tears  be  shed 

Over  my  turf,  when  I  am  buried. 

Then  for  effusions,  let  none  wanting  be, 

Or  other  rites  that  do  belong  to  me ; 

As  love  shall  help  thee,  when  thou  dost  go  hence 

Unto  thy  everlasting  residence. 

t 

636.     TO   HIS   LOVELY   MISTRESSES. 

ONE  night  i'  th'  year,  my  dearest  beauties,  come 
And  bring  those  due  drink-offerings  to  my  tomb ; 
When  thence  ye  see  my  reverend  ghost  to  rise, 
And  there  to  lick  th'  effused  sacrifice, 
Though  paleness  be  the  livery  that  I  wear, 
Look  ye  not  wan  or  colorless  for  fear ; 
Trust  me,  I  will  not  hurt  ye,  or  once  show 
The  least  grim  look,  or  cast  a  frown  on  you ; 
Nor  shall  the  tapers,  when  I'm  there,  burn  blue. 
This  I  may  do,  perhaps,  as  I  glide  by, 
Cast  on  my  girls  a  glance,  and  loving  eye ; 


HESPERIDES.  103 


Or  fold  mine  arms,  and  sigh,  because  I've  lost 
The  world  so  soon,  and  in  it  you  the  most : 
Than  these,  no  fears  more  on  your  fancies  fall, 
Though  then  I  smile,  and  speak  no  words  at  all. 


645.     THE   HAG. 

THE  hag  is  astride 

This  night  for  to  ride, 
The  devil  and  she  together  ; 

Through  thick  and  through  thin, 

Now  out  and  then  in,  5 

Though  ne'er  so  foul  be  the  weather. 

A  thorn  or  a  burr 

She  takes  for  a  spur ; 
With  a  lash  of  a  bramble  she  rides  now, 

Through  brakes  and  through  briars,  10 

O'er  ditches  and  mires, 
She  follows  the  spirit  that  guides  now. 

No  beast  for  his  food 

Dares  now  range  the  wood, 
But  hush'd  in  his  lair  he  lies  lurking;  15 

While  mischiefs  by  these, 

On  land  and  on  seas, 
At  noon  of  night  are  a-working. 

The  storm  will  arise 

And  trouble  the  skies  20 

This  night ;  and,  more  for  the  wonder, 

The  ghost  from  the  tomb 

Affrighted  shall  come, 
Call'd  out  by  the  clap  of  the  thunder. 


104  HESPER1DES. 


653.     TO   SILVIA. 

I  AM  holy  while  I  stand 
Circumcross'd  by  thy  pure  hand ; 
But  when  that  is  gone,  again 
I,  as  others,  am  profane. 


654.     TO   HIS   CLOSET    GODS. 

WHEN  I  go  hence,  ye  closet  gods,  I  fear 

Never  again  to  have  ingression  here  ; 

Where  I  have  had  whatever  things  could  be 

Pleasant  and  precious  to  my  muse  and  me. 

Besides  rare  sweets,  I  had  a  book  which  none 

Could  read  the  intext  but  myself  alone ; 

About  the  cover  of  this  book  there  went 

A  curious-comely,  clean  compartiement ; 

And  in  the  midst,  to  grace  it  more,  was  set 

A  blushing  pretty-peeping  rubelet ; 

But  now  'tis  clos'd,  and  being  shut  and  seal'd, 

Be  it,  O  be  it  never  more  reveal'd ! 

Keep  here  still,  closet  gods,  'fore  whom  I've  set 

Oblations  oit  of  sweetest  marmelet. 


662.     TO   MOMUS. 

WHO  read'st  this  book  that  I  have  writ, 
And  canst  not  mend,  but  carp  at  it ; 
By  all  the  Muses,  thou  shalt  be 
Anathema  to  it  and  me. 


HESPERIDES.  105 

664.     THE   COUNTRY    LIFE. 

To  the  Honoured  MR.  END.  PORTER,  Groom  of  the  Bedchamber 
to  His  Majesty. 

SWEET  country  life,  to  such  unknown 

Whose  lives  are  others',  not  their  own, 

But,  serving  courts  and  cities,  be 

Less  happy,  less  enjoying  thee. 

Thou  never  plough'st  the  ocean's  foam  5 

To  seek  and  bring  rough  pepper  home ; 

Nor  to  the  Eastern  Ind  dost  rove 

To  bring  from  thence  the  scorched  clove ; 

Nor,  with  the  loss  of  thy  lov'd  rest, 

Bring'st  home  the  ingot  from  the  West :  10 

No,  thy  ambition's  masterpiece 

Flies  no  thought  higher  than  a  fleece ; 

Or  how  to  pay  thy  hinds,  and  clear 

All  scores,  and  so  to  end  the  year : 

But  walk'st  about  thine  own  dear  bounds,  15 

Not  envying  others'  larger  grounds, 

For  well  thou  know'st,  'tis  not  t/i1  extent 

Of  land  makes  life,  but  sweet  content. 

When  now  the  cock,  the  ploughman's  horn, 

Calls  forth  the  lily-wristed  morn,  20 

Then  to  thy  corn-fields  thou  dost  go. 

Which,  though  well  soil'd,  yet  thou  dost  know 

That  the  best  compost  for  the  lands 

Is  the  wise  master's  feet  and  hands. 

There  at  the  plough  thou  find'st  thy  team,  25 

With  a  hind  whistling  there  to  them, 

And  cheer'st  them  up  by  singing  how 

The  kingdom's  portion  is  the  plough. 

This  done,  then  to  th'  enamell'd  meads 

Thou  go'st,  and  as  thy  foot  there  treads,  ,30 


106  HESPERIDES. 

Thou  seest  a  present  godlike  power 

Imprinted  in  each  herb  and  flower, 

And  smell'st  the  breath  of  great-eyed  kine, 

Sweet  as  the  blossoms  of  the  vine. 

Here  thou  behold'st  thy  large  sleek  neat  35 

Unto  the  dewlaps  up  in  meat ; 

And  as  thou  look'st,  the  wanton  steer, 

The  heifer,  cow,  and  ox  draw  near, 

To  make  a  pleasing  pastime  there. 

These  seen,  thou  goest  to  view  thy  flocks  40 

Of  sheep,  safe  from  the  wolf  and  fox, 

And  find'st  their  bellies  there  as  full 

Of  short  sweet  grass  as  backs  with  wool, 

And  leav'st  them,  as  they  feed  and  fill, 

A  shepherd  piping  on  a  hill.  45 

For  sports,  for  pageantry,  and  plays, 

Thou  hast  thy  eves  and  holydays, 

On  which  the  young  men  and  maids  meet 

To  exercise  their  dancing  feet, 

Tripping  the  comely  country  round,  50 

With  daffodils  and  daisies  crown'd. 

Thy  wakes,  thy  quintels,  here  thou  hast, 

Thy  Maypoles  too  with  garlands  grac'd, 

Thy  morris-dance,  thy  Whitsun-ale, 

Thy  shearing-feast,  which  never  fail,  55 

Thy  harvest  home,  thy  wassail  bowl, 

That's  toss'd  up  after  fox-i'-th'-hole, 

Thy  mummeries,  thy  Twelf-tide  kings 

And  queens,  thy  Christmas  revellings, 

Thy  nut-brown  mirth,  thy  russet  wit,  60 

And  no  man  pays  too  dear  for  it. 

To  these  thou  hast  thy  times  to  go 

And  trace  the  hare  i'  th'  treacherous  snow ; 

Thy  witty  wiles  to  draw,  and  get 


HESPERIDES.  107 

The  lark  into  the  trammel  net ;  65 

Thou  hast  thy  cockrood  and  thy  glade 

To  take  the  precious  pheasant  made  ; 

Thy  lime-twigs,  snares,  and  pitfalls  then, 

To  catch  the  pilf'ring  birds,  not  men. 

O  happy  life  !  if  that  their  good  70 

The  husbandmen  but  understood, 

Who  all  the  day  themselves  do  please, 

And  younglings,  with  such  sports  as  these, 

And,  lying  down,  have  nought  t'  affright 

Sweet  sleep,  that  makes  more  short  the  night.          75 

Cater  a  desunt 


696.     BITING   OF   BEGGARS. 

WHO,  railing,  drives  the  lazar  from  his  door, 
Instead  of  alms,  sets  dogs  upon  the  poor. 


697.     THE   MAYPOLE. 

THE  Maypole  is  up, 
Now  give  me  the  cup, 

I'll  drink  to  the  garlands  around  it ; 
But  first  unto  those 
Whose  hands  did  compose 

The  glory  of  flowers  that  crown'd  it. 

A  health  to  my  girls 

Whose  husbands  may  earls 
Or  lords  be,  granting  my  wishes ; 

And  when  that  ye  wed 

To  the  bridal  bed, 
Then  multiply  all,  like  to  fishes. 


108  HESPERIDES. 


704.     MEAN   THINGS   OVERCOME    MIGHTY. 

BY  the  weak'st  means  things  mighty  are  o'erthrown 
He's  lord  of  thy  life,  who  contemns  his  own. 


706.     UPON    SMEATON. 

How  could  Luke  Smeaton  wear  a  shoe  or  boot, 
Who  two  and  thirty  corns  had  on  a  foot  ? 


708.     HOW    ROSES   CAME    RED. 

'Tis  said,  as  Cupid  danc'd  among 
The  gods,  he  down  the  nectar  flung, 
Which,  on  the  white  rose  being  shed, 
Made  it  for  ever  after  red. 


709.    KINGS. 

MEN  are  not  born  kings,  but  are  men  renown'd, 
Chose  first,  confirm'd  next,  and  at  last  are  crown'd. 

714.     LAXARE   FIBULAM. 

To  loose  the  button  is  no  less 
Than  to  cast  off  all  bashfulness. 


716.     NOT   EVERY   DAY   FIT   FOR   VERSE. 

'Tis  not  ev'ry  day  that  I 
Fitted  am  to  prophesy ; 
No,  but  when  the  spirit  fills 
The  fantastic  pannicles, 
Full  of  fier,  then  I  write 
As  the  godhead  doth  indite. 


HESPERIDES.  109 

Thus  inrag'd,  my  lines  are  hurl'd, 

Like  the  Sybil's,  through  the  world. 

Look  how  next  the  holy  fire 

Either  slakes,  or  doth  retire ;  10 

So  the  fancy  cools,  till  when 

That  brave  spirit  comes  again. 

719.     TRUE   SAFETY. 

'Tis  not  the  walls  or  purple  that  defends 

A  prince  from  foes,  but  'tis  his  fort  of  friends. 

725.     TO   THE   GENIUS   OF   HIS    HOUSE. 

COMMAND  the  roof,  great  Genius,  and  from  thence 

Into  this  house  pour  down  thy  influence, 

That  through  each  room  a  golden  pipe  may  run 

Of  living  water  by  thy  benison  ; 

Fulfil  the  larders,  and  with  strength'ning  bread  5 

Be  evermore  these  bins  replenished. 

Next,  like  a  bishop  consecrate  my  ground, 

That  lucky  fairies  here  may  dance  their  round ; 

And  after  that  lay  down  some  silver  pence, 

The  master's  charge  and  care  to  recompense ;  10 

Charm  then  the  chambers,  make  the  beds  for  ease 

More  than  for  peevish  pining  sicknesses  ; 

Fix  the  foundation  fast,  and  let  the  roof 

Grow  old  with  time,  but  yet  keep  weather-proof. 

726.     HIS    GRANGE,   OR    PRIVATE    WEALTH. 

THOUGH  clock, 
To  tell  how  night  draws  hence,  I've  none, 

A  cock 
I  have  to  sing  how  day  draws  on : 


110  HESPERIDES. 

I  have  5 

A  maid,  my  Prew,  by  good  luck  sent, 

To  save 
That  little  Fates  me  gave  or  lent : 

A  hen 
I  keep,  which,  creeking  day  by  day,  10 

Tells  when 
She  goes  her  long  white  egg  to  lay : 

A  goose 
I  have,  which,  with  a  jealous  ear, 

Lets  loose  15 

Her  tongue  to  tell  what  danger's  near : 

A  lamb 
I  keep,  tame,  with  my  morsels  fed, 

Whose  dam 
An  orphan  left  him,  lately  dead :  20 

A  cat 
I  keep,  that  plays  about  my  house, 

Grown  fat 
With  eating  many  a  miching  mouse : 

To  these  25 

A  Tracy  I  do  keep,  whereby 

I  please 
The  more  my  rural  privacy : 

Which  are 
But  toys,  to  give  my  heart  some  ease.  30 

Where  care 
None  is,  slight  things  do  lightly  please. 

732.     CHARON   AND    PHILOMEL:   A    DIALOGUE   SUNG. 

Ph.  CHARON  !  O  gentle  Charon  !  let  me  woo  thee, 

By  tears  and  pity  now  to  come  unto  me. 
Ch.  What  voice  so  sweet  and  charming  do  I  hear  ? 

Say,  what  thou  art.     Ph.  I  prithee  first  draw  near. 


HESPERIDES.  Ill 

Ch.  A  sound  I  hear,  but  nothing  yet  can  see,  5 

Speak  where  thou  art.     Ph.  O  Charon,  pity  me ! 
I  am  a  bird,  and  though  no  name  I  tell, 
My  warbling  note  will  say  I'm  Philomel. 

Ch.  What's  that  to  me  ?     I  waft  nor  fish  or  fowls, 

Nor  beasts,  fond  thing,  but  only  human  souls.  10 

Ph.  Alas,  for  me  !      Ch.   Shame  on  thy  witching  note, 
That  made  me  thus  hoist  sail,  and  bring  my  boat : 
But  I'll  return  ;  what  mischief  brought  thee  hither  ? 

Ph.  A  deal  of  love,  and  much,  much  grief  together. 

Ch.  What's  thy  request?  Ph.  That  since  she's  now  beneath  15 
Who  fed  my  life,  I'll  follow  her  in  death. 

Ch.  And  is  that  all  ?    I'm  gone.    Ph.  By  love,  I  pray  thee. 

Ch.  Talk  not  of  love ;  all  pray,  but  few  souls  pay  me. 

Ph.  I'll  give  thee  vows  and  tears.   Ch.  Can  tears  pay  scores 
For  mending  sails,  for  patching  boat  and  oars  ?  20 

Ph.  I'll  beg  a  penny,  or  I'll  sing  so  long 

Till  thou  shalt  say  I've  paid  thee  with  a  song. 

Ch.  Why,  then  begin,  and  all  the  while  we  make 
Our  slothful  passage  o'er  the  Stygian  lake, 
Thou  and  I'll  sing  to  make  these  dull  shades  merry,       25 
Who  else  with  tears  would  doubtless  drown  my  ferry. 

753.     OUR   OWN    SINS    UNSEEN. 

OTHER  men's  sins  we  ever  bear  in  mind ; 
None  sees  the  fardel  of  his  faults  behind. 

763.     THE   WAKE. 

COME,  Anthea,  let  us  two 

Go  to  feast,  as  others  do  : 

Tarts  and  custards,  creams  and  cakes, 

Are  the  junkets  still  at  wakes ; 


HESPERIDES. 

Unto  which  the  tribes  resort,  5 

Where  the  business  is  the  sport. 

Morris-dancers  thou  shalt  see, 

Marian,  too,  in  pageantry ; 

And  a  mimic  to  devise 

Many  grinning  properties.  10 

Players  there  will  be,  and  those 

Base  in  action  as  in  clothes  ; 

Yet  with  strutting  they  will  please 

The  incurious  villages. 

Near  the  dying  of  the  day  15 

There  will  be  a  cudgel-play, 

Where  a  coxcomb  will  be  broke, 

Ere  a  good  word  can  be  spoke  : 

But  the  anger  ends  all  here, 

Drench'd  in  ale  or  drown'd  in  beer.  20 

Happy  rustics,  best  content 

With  the  cheapest  merriment, 

And  possess  no  other  fear 

Than  to  want  the  wake  next  year. 


781.     UPON   JULIA'S   CLOTHES 

WHENAS  in  silks  my  Julia  goes, 

Then,  then,  methinks,  how  sweetly  flows 

That  liquefaction  of  her  clothes. 

Next,  when  I  cast  mine  eyes,  and  see 
That  brave  vibration,  each  way  free 
O,  how  that  glittering  taketh  me  ! 


kESPERIDES.  113 

784.     UPON    PREW,    HIS    MAID. 

IN  this  little  urn  is  laid 
Prewdence  Baldwin,  once  my  maid, 
From  whose  happy  spark  here  let 
Spring  the  purple  violet, 

786.     CEREMONIES    FOR   CHRISTMAS. 

COME,  bring  with  a  noise, 

My  merry  merry  boys, 
The  Christmas  log  to  the  firing, 

While  my  good  dame,  she 

Bids  ye  all  be  free,  5 

And  drink  to  your  hearts'  desiring. 

With  the  last  year's  brand 

Light  the  new  block,  and 
For  good  success  in  his  spending, 

On  your  psalt'ries  play,  10 

That  sweet  luck  may 
Come  while  the  log  is  a-teending. 

Drink  now  the  strong  beer, 

Cut  the  white  loaf  here, 
The  while  the  meat  is  a-shredding;  15 

For  the  rare  mince-pie, 

And  the  plums  stand  by, 
To  fill  the  paste  that's  a-kneading. 

787.     CHRISTMAS   EVE:    ANOTHER    CEREMONY. 

COME,  guard  this  night  the  Christmas-pie, 
That  the  thief,  though  ne'er  so  sly, 
With  his  flesh-hooks,  don't  come  nigh 

To  catch  it 


114  HESPERIDES. 

From  him  who  all  alone  sits  there, 
Having  his  eyes  still  in  his  ear, 
And  a  deal  of  nightly  fear, 

To  watch  it. 


788.     ANOTHER  TO   THE   MAIDS. 

WASH  your  hands,  or  else  the  fire 
Will  not  teend  to  your  desire  ; 
Unwash'd  hands,  ye  maidens,  know, 
Dead  the  fire,  though  ye  blow. 


789.     ANOTHER. 

WASSAIL  the  trees,  that  they  may  bear 
You  many  a  plum  and  many  a  pear ; 
For  more  or  less  fruits  they  will  bring 
As  you  do  give  them  wassailing. 


813.     THE   MAIDEN-BLUSH. 

So  look  the  mornings,  when  the  sun 
Paints  them  with  fresh  vermilion  ; 
So  cherries  blush,  and  Kathern  pears, 
And  apricocks  in  youthful  years ; 
So  corals  look  more  lovely  red, 
And  rubies  lately  polished ; 
So  purest  diaper  doth  shine, 
Stain'd  by  the  beams  of  claret  wine ; 
As  Julia  looks  when  she  doth  dress 
Her  either  cheek  with  bashfulness. 


HESPERIDES.  115 


819.     THE   AMBER   BEAD. 

I  SAW  a  fly  within  a  bead 

Of  amber  cleanly  buried ; 

The  urn  was  little,  but  the  room 

More  rich  than  Cleopatra's  tomb. 


827.     COUNSEL. 

'TwAS  Caesar's  saying  :  Kings  no  less  conquerors  are 
By  their  wise  counsel,  than  they  be  by  war. 


832.     HIS   LOSS. 

ALL  has  been  plundered  from  me  but  my  wit ; 
Fortune  herself  can  lay  no  claim  to  it. 


840.     UPON   A   MAID. 

HERE  she  lies,  in  bed  of  spice, 
Fair  as  Eve  in  Paradise ; 
For  her  beauty,  it  was  such 
Poets  could  not  praise  too  much. 
Virgins,  come,  and  in  a  ring 
Her  supremest  requiem  sing ; 
Then  depart,  but  see  ye  tread 
Lightly,  lightly  o'er  the  dead. 


841.     UPON   LOVE. 

LOVE  is  a  circle,  and  an  endless  sphere ; 
From  good  to  good  revolving,  here  and  there. 


116  HESPERIDES. 


846.     TO    HIS   BOOK. 

MAKE  haste  away,  and  let  one  be 

A  friendly  patron  unto  thee, 

Lest  rapt  from  hence,  I  see  thee  lie 

Torn  for  the  use  of  pastery ; 

Or  see  thy  injur'd  leaves  serve  well 

To  make  loose  gowns  for  mackerel ; 

Or  see  the  grocers,  in  a  trice, 

Make  hoods  of  thee  to  serve  out  spice. 


849.    SOCIETY. 

Two  things  do  make  society  to  stand  ; 

The  first  commerce  is,  and  the  next  command. 


851.     SATISFACTION    FOR   SUFFERINGS. 

FOR  all  our  works  a  recompense  is  sure ; 

'  Tis  sweet  to  think  on  what  was  hard  f  endure. 


* 
853.     TO    M.    HENRY    LAWES,    THE    EXCELLENT 

COMPOSER   OF   HIS    LYRICS. 

TOUCH  but  thy  lyre,  my  Harry,  and  I  hear 

From  thee  some  raptures  of  the  rare  Gotire ; 

Then,  if  thy  voice  commingle  with  the  string, 

I  hear  in  thee  the  rare  Laniere  to  sing, 

Or  curious  Wilson.     Tell  me,  canst  thou  be 

Less  than  Apollo,  that  usurp'st  such  three  ? 

Three  unto  whom  the  whole  world  give  applause ; 

Yet  their  three  praises  praise  but  one  ;  that's  Lawes. 


HESPERIDES.  117 

855.     THE   BEDMAN,    OR   GRAVEMAKER. 

THOU  hast  made  many  houses  for  the  dead : 

When  my  lot  calls  me  to  be  buried, 

For  love  or  pity,  prithee  let  there  be 

I'  th'  churchyard  made  one  tenement  for  me. 

856.     TO    ANTHEA. 

ANTHEA,  I  am  going  hence 

With  some  small  stock  of  innocence ; 

But  yet  those  blessed  gates  I  see 

Withstanding  entrance  unto  me. 

To  pray  for  me  do  thou  begin,  5 

The  porter  then  will  let  me  in. 

870.     TO   HIS   BOOK. 

TAKE  mine  advice,  and  go  not  near 
Those  faces,  sour  as  vinegar; 
For  these,  and  Nobler  numbers  can 
Ne'er  please  the  supercilious  man. 

872.      THE    SACRIFICE,    BY    WAY    OF    DISCOURSE 
BETWIXT    HIMSELF   AND   JULIA. 

Herr.  COME  and  let  's  in  solemn  wise 
Both  address  to  sacrifice ; 
Old  Religion  first  commands 
That  we  wash  our  hearts  and  hands. 
Is  the  beast  exempt  from  stain,  5 

Altar  clean,  no  fire  profane  ? 
Are  the  garlands,  is  the  nard 
Ready  here  ? 


118  HESPERIDES. 

Jul.  All  well  prepar'd, 

With  the  wine  that  must  be  shed, 
'Twixt  the  horns,  upon  the  head 
Of  the  holy  beast  we  bring 
For  our  trespass-offering. 

Herr.  All  is  well :  now,  next  to  these, 
Put  we  on  pure  surplices  ; 
And  with  chaplets  crown'd,  we'll  roast 
With  perfumes  the  holocaust ; 
And,  while  we  the  gods  invoke, 
Read  acceptance  by  the  smoke. 


876.     AN    HYMN   TO   CUPID. 

THOU,  thou  that  bear'st  the  sway, 

With  whom  the  sea-nymphs  play, 

And  Venus,  every  way ; 

When  I  embrace  thy  knee, 

And  make  short  pray'rs  to  thee,  5 

In  love,  then  prosper  me. 

This  day  I  go  to  woo  ; 

Instruct  me  how  to  do 

This  work  thou  put'st  me  to. 

From  shame  my  face  keep  free,  10 

From  scorn  I  beg  of  thee, 

Love,  to  deliver  me  ! 

So  shall  I  sing  thy  praise, 

And  to  thee  altars  raise, 

Unto  the  end  of  days.  15 


HESPERIDES.  119 

UPON    JULIA'S    HAIR    BUNDLED    UP    IN    A 
GOLDEN    NET. 

TELL  me,  what  needs  those  rich  deceits, 

These  golden  toils  and  trammel-nets, 

To  take  thine  hairs,  when  they  are  known 

Already  tame,  and  all  thine  own  ? 

'Tis  I  am  wild,  and  more  than  hairs  5 

Deserve  these  mashes  and  those  snares. 

Set  free  thy  tresses,  let  them  flow 

As  airs  do  breathe  or  winds  do  blow ; 

And  let  such  curious  networks  be 

Less  set  for  them  than  spread  for  me.  10 

890.     CHARMS. 

BRING  the  holy  crust  of  bread, 
Lay  it  underneath  the  head ; 
'Tis  a  certain  charm  to  keep 
Hags  away  while  children  sleep. 

891.     ANOTHER. 

LET  the  superstitious  wife 

Near  the  child's  heart  lay  a  knife, 

Point  be  up  and  haft  be  down ; 

While  she  gossips  in  the  town, 

This,  'mongst  other  mystic  charms,  5 

Keeps  the  sleeping  child  from  harms. 

893.     ANOTHER   CHARM    FOR   STABLES. 

HANG  up  hooks  and  shears  to  scare 
Hence  the  hag  that  rides  the  mare, 


120  HESPERIDES. 

Till  they  be  all  over  wet 
With  the  mire  and  the  sweat ; 
This  observ'd,  the  manes  shall  be 
Of  your  horses  all  knot-free. 


894.     CEREMONIES    FOR   CANDLEMAS   EVE. 

DOWN  with  the  rosemary  and  bays, 

Down  with  the  mistletoe  ; 
Instead  of  holly,  now  upraise 

The  greener  box,  for  show. 

The  holly  hitherto  did  sway ;  5 

Let  box  now  domineer 
Until  the  dancing  Easter  Day 

Or  Easter's  eve  appear. 

Then  youthful  box,  which  now  hath  grace 

Your  houses  to  renew,  10 

Grown  old,  surrender  must  his  place 
Unto  the  crisped  yew. 

When  yew  is  out,  then  birch  comes  in, 

And  many  flowers  beside, 
Both  of  a  fresh  and  fragrant  kin,  1 5 

To  honor  Whitsuntide. 

Green  rushes  then,  and  sweetest  bents, 

With  cooler  oaken  boughs, 
Come  in  for  comely  ornaments, 

To  re-adorn  the  house.  20 

Thus  times  do  shift,  each  thing  his  turn  does  hold ; 
New  things  succeed  as  former  things  grow  old. 


HESPERIDES.  121 


895.     THE   CEREMONIES    FOR   CANDLEMAS   DAY. 

KINDLE  the  Christmas  brand,  and  then 

Till  sunset  let  it  burn  ; 
Which  quench'd,  then  lay  it  up  again 

Till  Christmas  next  return. 

Part  must  be  kept,  wherewith  to  teend 
The  Christmas  log  next  year ; 

And  where  'tis  safely  kept,  the  Fiend 
Can  do  no  mischief  there. 


896.     UPON   CANDLEMAS   DAY. 

END  now  the  white-loaf  and  the  pie, 
And  let  all  sports  with  Christmas  die. 


908.     TO   A    FRIEND. 

LOOK  in  my  book,  and  herein  see 
Life  endless  sign'd  to  thee  and  me : 
We  o'er  the  tombs  and  fates  shall  fly, 
While  other  generations  die. 


912.     UPON   BEN   JONSON. 

HERE  lies  Jonson  with  the  rest 

Of  the  poets,  but  the  best. 

Reader,  wouldst  thou  more  have  known? 

Ask  his  story,  not  this  stone  ; 

That  will  speak  what  this  can't  tell 

Of  his  glory.     So  farewell. 


122  HESPEKIDES. 

913.     AN   ODE    FOR   HIM. 

AH,  Ben  ! 
Say  how  or  when 
Shall  we,  thy  guests, 
Meet  at  those  lyric  feasts 

Made  at  the  Sun,  5 

The  Dog,  the  Triple  Tun, 
Where  we  such  clusters  had 
As  made  us  nobly  wild,  not  mad, 

And  yet  each  verse  of  thine 
Outdid  the  meat,  outdid  the  frolic  wine  ?  10 

My  Ben ! 
Or  come  again, 
Or  send  to  us 
Thy  wit's  great  overplus ; 

But  teach  us  yet  15 

Wisely  to  husband  it, 
Lest  we  that  talent  spend, 
And  having  once  brought  to  an  end 

That  precious  stock,  the  store 
Of  such  a  wit  the  world  should  have  no  more.          20 


923.     PRESENT   GOVERNMENT   GRIEVOUS. 

MEN  are  suspicious,  prone  to  discontent ; 
Subjects  still  loathe  the  present  government. 


929.     THE   PRESENT   TIME   BEST    PLEASETH. 

PRAISE  they  that  will  time  past,  I  joy  to  see 
Myself  now  live ;  this  age  best  pleaseth  me. 


HESPERIDES.  123 


956.     ON    HIMSELF. 

LOST  to  the  world,  lost  to  myself,  alone 
Here  now  I  rest  under  this  marble  stone, 
In  depth  of  silence,  heard  and  seen  of  none. 


959.    TO  JULIA. 

OFFER  thy  gift ;  but  first  the  law  commands 
Thee,  Julia,  first  to  sanctify  thy  hands : 
Do  that,  my  Julia,  which  the  rites  require, 
Then  boldly  give  thine  incense  to  the  fire. 


962.     TO   HIS   BOOK. 

IF  hap  it  must  that  I  must  see  thee  lie 
Absyrtus-like,  all  torn  confusedly, 
With  solemn  -tears  and  with  much  grief  of  heart 
I'll  re-collect  thee,  weeping,  part  by  part, 
And  having  wash'd  thee,  close  thee  in  a  chest 
With  spice ;  that  done,  I'll  leave  thee  to  thy  rest. 


969.     UPON   HIS    SPANIEL  TRACY. 

Now  thou  art  dead,  no  eye  shall  ever  see, 
For  shape  and  service,  spaniel  like  to  thee ; 
This  shall  my  love  do,  give  thy  sad  death  one 
Tear,  that  deserves  of  me  a  million. 


973.     STRENGTH   TO    SUPPORT   SOVEREIGNTY. 

LET  kings  and  rulers  learn  this  line  from  me ; 
Where  power  is  weak,  unsafe  is  majesty. 


124  HESPERIDES. 

976.     TO   JULIA. 

HOLY  waters  hither  bring 

For  the  sacred  sprinkling  ; 

Baptise  me  and  thee,  and  so 

Let  us  to  the  altar  go ; 

And,  ere  we  our  rites  commence, 

Wash  our  hands  in  innocence  ; 

Then  I'll  be  the  Rex  Sacrorum, 

Thou  the  Queen  of  Peace  and  Quorum. 


52.  CEREMONY  UPON  CANDLEMAS  EVE. 

DOWN  with  the  rosemary,  and  so 
Down  with  the  bays  and  mistletoe ; 
Down  with  the  holly,  ivy,  all 
Wherewith  ye  dress'd  the  Christmas  hall, 
That  so  the  superstitious  find 
No  one  least  branch  there  left  behind ; 
For  look,  how  many  leaves  there  be 
Neglected  there,  maids,  trust  to  me, 
So  many  goblins  you  shall  see. 


985.     TO   HIS   KINSMAN,   MR.   THO:   HERRICK,   WHO 
DESIRED   TO  BE  IN  HIS  BOOK. 

WELCOME  to  this  my  College,  and  though  late 
Th'ast  got  a  place  here,  standing  candidate, 
It  matters  not,  since  thou  art  chosen  one 
Here  of  my  great  and  good  foundation. 


HESPERIDES.  125 

986.     A   BUCOLIC    BETWIXT   TWO:   LACON   AND 
THYRSIS. 

Lacon.  FOR  a  kiss  or  two,  confess 
What  doth  cause  this  pensiveness, 
Thou  most  lovely  neatherdess? 
Why  so  lonely  on  the  hill? 

Why  thy  pipe  by  thee  so  still,  5 

That  erewhile  was  heard  so  shrill  ? 
Tell  me,  do  thy  kine  now  fail 
To  fulfil  the  milking-pail  ? 
Say,  what  is  't  that  thou  dost  ail  ? 

Thyr.  None  of  these  ;  but  out,  alas !  10 

A  mischance  is  come  to  pass, 
And  I'll  tell  thee  what  it  was  ; 
See,  mine  eyes,  are  weeping  ripe. 

Lacon.  Tell,  and  I'll  lay  down  my  pipe. 

Thyr.  1  have  lost  my  lovely  steer,  1 5 

That  to  me  was  far  more  dear 
Than  these  kine  which  I  milk  here  : 
Broad  of  forehead,  large  of  eye, 
Parti-colored  like  a  pie, 

Smooth  in  each  limb  as  a  die,  20 

Clear  of  hoof,  and  clear  of  horn, 
Sharply  pointed  as  a  thorn ; 
With  a  neck  by  yoke  unworn, 
From  the  which  hung  down  by  strings, 
Balls  of  cowslips,  daisy  rings,  25 

Enterplac'd  with  ribbanings ; 
Faultless  every  way  for  shape ; 
Not  a  straw  could  him  escape ; 
Ever  gamesome  as  an  ape, 


126  HESPERIDES. 

But  yet  harmless  as  a  sheep.  3° 

Pardon,  Lacon,  if  I  weep ; 

Tears  will  spring  where  woes  are  deep. 

Now,  ai  me  !  ai  me  !     Last  night 

Came  a  mad  dog,  and  did  bite, 

Aye,  and  kill'd  my  dear  delight.  35 

Lacon.  Alack,  for  grief  ! 

Thyr.  But  I'll  be  brief. 

Hence  I  must,  for  time  doth  call 

Me  and  my  sad  playmates  all, 

To  his  ev'ning  funeral.  40 

Live  long,  Lacon  ;  so  adieu  ! 

Lacon.  Mournful  maid,  farewell  to  you ; 
Earth  afford  ye  flowers  to  strew ! 


1021.     ON   HIS   BOOK. 

THE  bound,  almost,  now  of  my  book  I  see, 
But  yet  no  end  of  those  therein  or  me ; 
Here  we  begin  new  life,  while  thousands  quite 
Are  lost,  and  theirs,  in  everlasting  night. 


1028.     SAINT    DISTAFF'S   DAY  ;    OR,   THE   MORROW 
AFTER   TWELFTH    DAY. 

PARTLY  work  and  partly  play 
Ye  must  on  St.  Distaff's  day ; 
From  the  plough  soon  free  your  team, 
Then  come  home  and  fodder  them ; 


HESPERIDES.  127 


If  the  maids  a-spinning  go, 
Burn  the  flax  and  fire  the  tow; 
Bring  in  pails  of  water  then, 
Let  the  maids  bewash  the  men ; 
Give  St.  Distaff  all  the  right, 
Then  bid  Christmas  sport  good-night, 
And  next  morrow  every  one 
To  his  own  vocation. 


1030.     HIS   TEARS   TO   THAMESIS. 

I  SEND,  I  send  here  my  supremest  kiss, 

To  thee,  my  silver-footed  Thamesis ; 

No  more  shall  I  reiterate  thy  Strand, 

Whereon  so  many  stately  structures  stand, 

Nor  in  the  summer's  sweeter  evenings  go,  5 

To  bathe  in  thee,  as  thousand  others  do ; 

No  more  shall  I  along  thy  crystal  glide 

In  barge  with  boughs  and  rushes  beautify'd, 

With  soft-smooth  virgins,  for  our  chaste  disport, 

To  Richmond,  Kingston,  and  to  Hampton  Court ;       10 

Never  again  shall  I  with  finny  oar 

Put  from  or  draw  unto  the  faithful  shore ; 

And  landing  here,  or  safely  landing  there, 

Make  way  to  my  beloved  Westminster, 

Or  to  the  golden  Cheapside,  where  the  earth  15 

Of  Julia  Herrick  gave  to  me  my  birth. 

May  all  clean  nymphs  and  curious  water  dames 

With  swan-like  state  float  up  and  down  thy  streams ; 

No  drought  upon  thy  wanton  waters  fall, 

To  make  them  lean  and  languishing  at  all ;  20 

No  ruffling  winds  come  hither  to  disease 

Thy  pure  and  silver-wristed  Naiades. 


128  HESPERIDES. 


Keep  up  your  state,  ye  streams,  and  as  ye  spring, 
Never  make  sick  your  banks  by  surfeiting ; 
Grow  young  with  tides,  and  though  I  see  ye  never,     25 
Receive  this  vow ;  so  fare-ye-well  for  ever. 


1032.     PEACE   NOT   PERMANENT- 

GREAT  cities  seldom  rest ;  if  there  be  none 

T'  invade  from  far,  they'll  find  worse  foes  at  home. 

1035.     STUDIES   TO   BE   SUPPORTED. 

STUDIES  themselves  will  languish  and  decay 
When  either  price  or  praise  is  ta'en  away: 

1037.     TWELFTH    NIGHT;    OR,    KING   AND    QUEEN. 

Now,  now  the  mirth  comes 

With  the  cake  full  of  plums, 
Where  Bean's  the  King  of  the  sport  here ; 

Beside,  we  must  know 

The  Pea  also  5 

Must  revel  as  Queen  in  the  court  here. 

Begin  then  to  choose, 

This  night,  as  ye  use, 
Who  shall  for  the  present  delight  here ; 

Be  a  King  by  the  lot,  10 

And  who  shall  not 
Be  Twelve-day  Queen  for  the  night  here. 

Which  known,  let  us  make 
Joy-sops  with  the  cake, 
And  let  not  a  man  then  be  seen  here  15 


HESPERIDES.  129 

Who  unurg'd  will  not  drink, 
To  the  base  from  the  brink, 
A  health  to  the  King  and  the  Queen  here. 

Next  crown  the  bowl  full 

With  gentle  lamb's-wool,  20 

Add  sugar,  nutmeg,  and  ginger, 

With  store  of  ale  too ; 

And  thus  ye  must  do 
To  make  the  wassail  a  swinger. 

Give  then  to  the  King  25 

And  Queen  wassailing, 
And  though  with  ale  ye  be  whet  here, 

Yet  part  ye  from  hence 

As  free  from  offence 
As  when  ye  innocent  met  here.  3° 


1039.     CAUTION    IN    COUNCIL. 

KNOW  when  to  speak ;  for  many  times  it  brings 
Danger  to  give  the  best  advice  to  kings. 


1069.     GENTLENESS. 

THAT  prince  must  govern  with  a  gentle  hand, 
Who  will  have  love  comply  with  his  command. 


1071.    TO  JULIA. 

HELP  me,  Julia,  for  to  pray, 
Matins  sing,  or  matins  say; 
This  I  know,  the  Fiend  will  fly 
Far  away,  if  thou  be'st  by ; 


130  HESPERIDES. 

Bring  the  holy  water  hither ; 
Let  us  wash,  and  pray  together ; 
When  our  beads  are  thus  united, 
Then  the  foe  will  fly  affrighted. 

1076.     ANOTHER   ON   THE   SAME. 

[1075  ig  on  Obedience.] 
No  man  so  well  a  kingdom  rules  as  he 
Who  hath  himself  obey'd  the  sovereignty. 

1104.     WAR. 

IF  kings  and  kingdoms  once  distracted  be, 
The  sword  of  war  must  try  the  sovereignty. 

1105.     A   KING   AND   NO   KING. 

THAT  prince  who  may  do  nothing  but  what's  just, 
Rules  but  by  leave,  and  takes  his  crown  on  trust. 

1125.     THE    MOUNT   OF   THE   MUSES. 

AFTER  thy  labor  take  thine  ease 
Here  with  the  sweet  Pierides. 
But  if  so  be  that  men  will  not 
Give  thee  the  laurel  crown  for  lot, 
Be  yet  assur'd  thou  shalt  have  one 
Not  subject  to  corruption. 

1126.     ON    HIMSELF. 

I'LL  write  no  more  of  love,  but  now  repent 
Of  all  those  times  that  I  in  it  have  spent ; 
I'll  write  no  more  of  life,  but  wish  'twas  ended, 
And  that  my  dust  was  to  the  earth  commended. 


HESPERIDES.  131 

1127.     TO    HIS    BOOK. 

Go  thou  forth,  my  book,  though  late  ; 

Yet  be  timely  fortunate. 

It  may  chance  good  luck  may  send 

Thee  a  kinsman  or  a  friend, 

That  may  harbor  thee,  when  I  5 

With  my  fates  neglected  lie  : 

If  thou  know'st  not  where  to  dwell, 

See,  the  fier's  by.     Farewell. 


1128.     THE   END   OF   HIS    WORK. 

PART  of  the  work  remains,  one  part  is  past ; 
And  here  my  ship  rides,  having  anchor  cast. 


1129.     TO    CROWN    IT. 

MY  wearied  bark,  O  let  it  now  be  crown 'd ! 
The  haven  reach'd  to  which  I  first  was  bound. 


1130.     ON    HIMSELF. 

THE  work  is  done ;  young  men  and  maidens  set 

Upon  my  curls  the  myrtle  coronet, 

Wash'd  with  sweet  ointments ;  thus  at  last  I  come 

To  suffer  in  the  Muses'  martyrdom, 

But  with  this  comfort,  if  my  blood  be  shed, 

The  Muses  will  wear  blacks  when  I  am  dead. 


132  HESPERIDES. 

1131.     THE   PILLAR   OF   FAME. 

FAME'S  pillar  here  at  last  we  set, 

Out-during  marble,  brass,  or  jet; 

Charm'd  and  enchanted  so 

As    to   withstand  the  blow 

Of    overthrow;  5 

Nor  shall  the  seas, 
Or  OUTRAGES 
Of  storms  o'erbear 
What  we  uprear ; 

Tho'  kingdoms  fall,  i° 

This      pillar      never      shall 

Decline    or    waste    at     all, 

But  stand   for  ever  by  his  own 

Firm    and    well-fix'd   foundation. 


To  his  book's  end  this  last  line  he'd  have  plac'd  : 
JOCUND  HIS  MUSE  WAS,  BUT  HIS  LIFE  WAS  CHASTE. 


HIS  FAREWELL    UNTO   POETRY.  133 

MR.    ROBERT    HERRICK :    HIS    FAREWELL    UNTO 
POETRY.* 

I  HAVE  beheld  two  lovers  in  a  night 

Hatch'd  o'er  with  moonshine  from  their  stol'n  delight 

(When  this  to  that,  and  that  to  this,  had  given 

A  kiss  to  such  a  jewel  of  the  heaven, 

Or  while  that  each  from  other's  breath  did  drink  5 

Healths  to  the  rose,  the  violet,  or  pink), 

Call'd  on  the  sudden  by  the  jealous  mother, 

Some  stricter  mistress  or  suspicious  other, 

Urging  divorcement  (worse  than  death  to  these) 

By  the  soon  jingling  of  some  sleepy  keys,  10 

Part  with  a  hasty  kiss ;  and  in  that  show 

How  stay  they  would,  yet  forc'd  they  are  to  go. 

Even  such  are  we,  and  in  our  parting  do 

No  otherwise  than  as  those  former  two 

Natures  like  ours;  we  who  have  spent  our  time  15 

Both  from  the  morning  to  the  evening  chime, 

Nay,  till  the  bellman  of  the  night  had  toll'd 

Past  noon  of  night,  yet  were  the  hours  not  old 

Nor  dull'd  with  iron  sleep,  but  have  outworn 

The  fresh  and  fairest  flourish  of  the  morn  20 

With  flame  and  rapture ;  drinking  to  the  odd 

Number  of  nine  which  makes  us  full  with  God, 

And  in  that  mystic  frenzy  we  have  hurl'd, 

As  with  a  tempest,  nature  through  the  world, 

And  in  a  whirlwind  twirl'd  her  home,  aghast  25 

At  that  which  in  her  ecstasy  had  past ;  * 

Thus  crown'd  with  rose-buds,  sack,  thou  mad'st  me  fly 

Like  fire-drakes,  yet  did'st  me  no  harm  thereby. 

1  This  poem  is  not  in  the  Hesperides,  but  is  reprinted  by  Hazlitt, 
Grosart,  and  Pollard  from  the  Ashmole  MS.  38,  p.  108,  Art.  121. 
Hazlitt's  text  is  somewhat  confused :  Grosart's  is  almost  literatim.  I 
follow,  except  in  a  few  words,  Pollard,  who  has  corrected  the  spelling. 


134  HIS  FAREWELL    UNTO   POETRY. 

0  thou  almighty  nature,  who  did'st  give 

True  heat  wherewith  humanity  doth  live  30 

Beyond  its  stinted  circle,  giving  food, 

White  fame  and  resurrection  to  the  good : 

Soaring  them  up  'bove  ruin  till  the  doom, 

The  general  April  of  the  world  doth  come 

That  makes  all  equal,  —  many  thousands  should,  35 

Were  't  not  for  thee,  have  crumbled  into  mould, 

And  with  their  serecloths  rotted,  not  to  show 

Whether  the  world  such  spirits  had  or  no, 

Whereas  by  thee,  those  and  a  million  since, 

Nor  fate,  nor  envy,  can  their  fames  convince.  40 

Homer,  Musaeus,  Ovid,  Maro,  more 

Of  those  godful  prophets  long  before 

Held  their  eternal  fires,  and  ours  of  late 

Thy  mercy  helping,  shall  resist  strong  fate, 

Nor  stoop  to  th'  centre,  but  survive  as  long  45 

As  fame  or  rumor  hath  or  trump  or  tongue ; 

But  unto  me  be  only  hoarse,  since  now 

(Heaven  and  my  soul  bear  record  of  my  vow) 

1  my  desires  screw  from  thee,  and  direct 

Them  and  my  thoughts  to  that  sublim'd  respect  50 

And  conscience  unto  priesthood.     'Tis  not  need 

(The  scarecrow  unto  mankind)  that  doth  breed 

Wiser  conclusions  in  me,  since  I  know 

I've  more  to  bear  my  charge  than  way  to  go, 

Or  had  I  not,  I'd  stop  the  spreading  itch  55 

Of  craving  more,  so  in  conceit  be  rich ; 

B\it  'tis  the  God  of  nature  who  intends 

And  shapes  my  function  for  more  glorious  ends. 

Kiss,  so  depart,  yet  stay  a  while  to  see 

The  lines  of  sorrow  that  lie  drawn  in  me  60 

In  speech,  in  picture ;  no  otherwise  than  when, 

Judgment  and  death  denounc'd  'gainst  guilty  men, 


HIS  FAREWELL    UNTO  POETRY.  135 

Each  takes  a  weeping  farewell,  rack'd  in  mind 

With  joys  before  and  pleasures  left  behind, 

Shaking  the  head,  while  each  to  each  doth  mourn,          65 

With  thought  they  go  whence  they  must  ne'er  return. 

So  with  like  looks,  as  once  the  ministrel 

Cast,  leading  his  Eurydice  through  hell, 

I  strike  thy  love,  and  greedily  pursue 

Thee  with  mine  eyes  or  in  or  out  of  view.  7° 

So  look'd  the  Grecian  orator  when  sent 

From's  native  country  into  banishment, 

Throwing  his  eyeballs  backward  to  survey 

The  smoke  of  his  beloved  Attica ; 

So  Tully  look'd  when  from  the  breasts  of  Rome  75 

The  sad  soul  went,  not  with  his  love,  but  doom, 

Shooting  his  eyedarts  'gainst  it  to  surprise 

It,  or  to  draw  the  city  to  his  eyes. 

Such  is  my  parting  with  thee,  and  to  prove 

There  was  not  varnish  only  in  my  love,  80 

But  substance,  lo  !  receive  this  pearly  tear 

Frozen  with  grief  and  place  it  in  thine  ear, 

Then  part  in  name  of  peace,  and  softly  on 

With  numerous  feet  to  hoofy  Helicon  ; 

And  when  thou  art  upon  that  forked  hill  85 

Amongst  the  thrice  three  sacred  virgins,  fill 

A  full  brimm'd  bowl  of  fury  and  of  rage, 

And  quaff  it  to  the  prophets  of  our  age ; 

When  drunk  with  rapture  curse  the  blind  and  lame 

Base  ballad  mongers  who  usurp  thy  name  90 

And  foul  thy  altar ;  charm  some  into  frogs, 

Some  to  be  rats,  and  others  to  be  hogs ; 

Into  the  loathsom'st  shapes  thou  canst  devise 

To  make  fools  hate  them,  only  by  disguise. 

Thus  with  a  kiss  of  warmth  and  love  I  part,  9$ 

Not  so  but  that  some  relic  in  my  heart 


136  HIS  FAREWELL    UNTO  POETRY. 

Shall  stand  for  ever,  though  I  do  address 
Chiefly  myself  to  what  I  must  profess. 
Know  yet,  rare  soul,  when  my  diviner  muse 
Shall  want  a  handmaid  (as  she  oft  will  use),  100 

Be  ready,  thou  for  me,  to  wait  upon  her, 
Though  as  a  servant,  yet  a  maid  of  honor. 
The  crown  of  duty  is  our  duty :  well- 
Doing's  the  fruit  of  doing  well.     Farewell. 


HIS   NOBLE   NUMBERS 


HIS    PIOUS    PIECES, 


Wherein  (amongst  other  things)  he  sings  the  Birth  of  his  CHRIST: 
and  sighs  for  his  Saviour's  suffering  on  the  cross. 


HIS   NOBLE   NUMBERS. 


i.     HIS    CONFESSION. 

LOOK  how  our  foul  days  do  exceed  our  fair ; 

And  as  our  bad  more  than  our  good  works  are, 

Ev'n  so  those  lines,  penn'd  by  my  wantoji  wit, 

Treble  the  number  of  these  good  I've  writ. 

Things  precious  are  least  num'rous  ;  men  are  prone       5 

To  do  ten  bad  for  one  good  action. 

2.     HIS    PRAYER   FOR   ABSOLUTION. 

FOR  those  my  unbaptized  rhymes, 

Writ  in  my  wild  unhallowed  times, 

For  every  sentence,  clause,  and  word, 

That's  not  inlaid  with  Thee,  my  Lord, 

Forgive  me,  God,  and  blot  each  line  5 

Out  of  my  book  that  is  not  Thine. 

But  if,  'mongst  all,  Thou  find'st  here  one 

Worthy  Thy  benediction, 

That  one  of  all  the  rest  shall  be 

The  glory  of  my  work  and  me.  10 

7.     GOD'S    ANGER   WITHOUT   AFFECTION. 

GOD,  when  He's  angry  here  with  any  one, 
His  wrath  is  free  from  perturbation ; 
And  when  we  think  His  looks  are  sour  and  grim, 
The  alteration  is  in  us,  not  Him. 


140  HIS  NOBLE   NUMBERS. 

33.     AN   ODE   OF   THE   BIRTH    OF   OUR    SAVIOUR. 

IN  numbers,  and  but  these  few, 

I  sing  Thy  birth,  O  JESU  ! 

Thou  pretty  Baby,  born  here, 

With  sup'rabundant  scorn  here, 

Who  for  Thy  princely  port  here,  5 

Hadst  for  Thy  place 

Of  birth,  a  base 
Out-stable  for  thy  court  here. 

Instead  of  neat  enclosures 

Of  interwoven  osiers,  10 

Instead  of  fragrant  posies  » 

Of  daffodils  and  roses, 

Thy  cradle,  Kingly  Stranger, 

As  Gospel  tells, 

Was  nothing  else,  15 

But,  here,  a  homely  manger. 

But  we  with  silks,  not  crewels, 

With  sundry  precious  jewels, 

And  lily-work,  will  dress  Thee ; 

And  as  we  dispossess  Thee  20 

Of  clouts,  we'll  make  a  chamber, 

Sweet  Babe,  for  Thee, 

Of  ivory, 
And  plaister'd  round  with  amber. 

The  Jews  they  did  disdain  Thee,  25 

But  we  will  entertain  Thee 
With  glories  to  await  here 
Upon  Thy  princely  state  here, 
And  more  for  love  than  pity; 

From  year  to  year  30 

We'll  make  Thee  here 
A  freeborn  of  our  city. 


HIS  NOBLE  NUMBERS.  141 


37.     SIN    SEEN. 


WHEN  once  the  sin  has  fully  acted  been, 
Then  is  the  horror  of  the  trespass  seen. 


38.     UPON   TIME. 

TIME  was  upon 
The  wing,  to  fly  away ; 

And  I  call'd  on 
Him  but  a  while  to  stay  ; 

But  he'd  be  gone,  5 

For  aught  that  I  could  say. 

He  held  out  then 
A  writing,  as  he  went, 

And  ask'd  me,  when 
False  man  would  be  content  10 

To  pay  again 
What  God  and  nature  lent. 

An  hour-glass, 
In  which  were  sands  but  few, 

As  he  did  pass,  .15 

He  show'd,  and  told  me  too 

Mine  end  near  was, 
And  so  away  he  flew. 


41.     HIS    LETANY,   TO   THE   HOLY    SPIRIT. 

IN  the  hour  of  my  distress, 
When  temptations  me  oppress, 
And  when  I  my  sins  confess, 

Sweet  Spirit,  comfort  me  ! 


142  HIS  NOBLE   NUMBERS. 

When  I  lie  within  my  bed,  5 

Sick  in  heart  and  sick  in  head, 
And  with  doubts  discomforted, 

Sweet  Spirit,  comfort  me  ! 

When  the  house  doth  sigh  and  weep, 

And  the  world  is  drown'd  in  sleep,  10 

Yet  mine  eyes  the  watch  do  keep, 

Sweet  Spirit,  comfort  me ! 

When  the  artless  doctor  sees 
No  one  hope,  but  of  his  fees, 
And  his  skill  runs  on  the  lees,  15 

Sweet  Spirit,  comfort  me  ! 

When  his  potion  and  his  pill, 
Has  or  none  or  little  skill, 
Meet  for  nothing  but  to  kill, 

Sweet  Spirit,  comfort  me  !  20 

When  the  passing-bell  doth  toll, 
And  the  furies  in  a  shoal 
Come  to  fright  a  parting  soul, 

Sweet  Spirit,  comfort  me ! 

When  the  tapers  now  burn  blue,  25 

And  the  comforters  are  few, 
And  that  number  more  than  true, 

Sweet  Spirit,  comfort  me  ! 

When  the  priest  his  last  hath  pray'd, 

And  I  nod  to  what  is  said  30 

'Cause  my  speech  is  now  decay'd, 

Sweet  Spirit,  comfort  me  ! 


HIS  NOBLE  NUMBERS.  143 

When,  God  knows,  I'm  toss'd  about, 
Either  with  despair  or  doubt, 

Yet,  before  the  glass  be  out,  35 

Sweet  Spirit,  comfort  me ! 

When  the  tempter  me  pursu'th 

With  the  sins  of  all  my  youth, 

And  half  damns  me  with  untruth,       4 

Sweet  Spirit,  comfort  me  !  40 

When  the  flames  and  hellish  cries 
Fright  mine  ears  and  fright  mine  eyes, 
And  all  terrors  me  surprise, 

Sweet  Spirit,  comfort  me  ! 

When  the  Judgment  is  reveal'd,  45 

And  that  open'd  which  was  seal'd, 
When  to  thee  I  have  appeal'd, 

Sweet  Spirit,  comfort  me ! 


47.     A  THANKSGIVING   TO   GOD   FOR   HIS   HOUSE. 

LORD,  Thou  hast  given  me  a  cell 

Wherein  to  dwell, 
A  little  house,  whose  humble  roof 

Is  weather-proof, 
Under  the  spars  of  which  I  lie 

Both  soft  and  dry ; 
Where  Thou,  my  chamber  for  to  ward, 

Hast  set  a  guard 
Of  harmless  thoughts,  to  watch  and  keep 

Me  while  I  sleep. 
Low  is  my  porch,  as  is  my  fate, 

Both  void  of  state  ; 


144  HIS  NOBLE   NUMBERS. 

And  yet  the  threshold  of  my  door 

Is  worn  by  th'  poor, 
Who  thither  come  and  freely  get  15 

Good  words  or  meat. 
Like  as  my  parlor  so  my  hall 

And  kitchen's  small ; 
A  little  buttery,  and  therein 

>•  A  little  bin,  20 

Which  keeps  my  little  loaf  of  bread 

Unchipp'd,  unflead ; 
Some  brittle  sticks  of  thorn  or  briar 

Make  me  a  fire, 
Close  by  whose  living  coal  I  sit,  25 

And  glow  like  it. 
Lord,  I  confess  too,  when  I  dine, 

The  pulse  is  Thine, 
And  all  those  other  bits  that  be 

There  plac'd  by  Thee  ;  30 

The  worts,  the  purslane,  and  the  mess 

Of  water-cress, 
Which  of  Thy  kindness  Thou  hast  sent ; 

And  my  content 
Makes  those,  and  my  beloved  beet,  35 

To  be  more  sweet. 
'Tis  Thou  that  crown 'st  my  glittering  hearth 

With  guiltless  mirth, 
And  giv'st  me  wassail  bowls  to  drink, 

Spic'd  to  the  brink.  40 

Lord,  'tis  Thy  plenty-dropping  hand 

That  soils  my  land, 
And  giv'st  me,  for  my  bushel  sown, 

Twice  ten  for  one  ; 
Thou  mak'st  my  teeming  hen  to  lay  45 

Her  egg  each  day  ; 


ffIS  NOBLE  NUMBERS.  145 

Besides  my  healthful  ewes  to  bear 

Me  twins  each  year; 
The  while  the  conduits  of  my  kine 

Run  cream,  for,  wine.  50 

All  these,  and  better  Thou  dost  send 

Me,  to  this  end, 
That  I  should  render,  for  my  part, 

A  thankful  heart, 
Which,  fir'd  with  incense,  I  resign,  55 

As  wholly  Thine ; 
But  the  acceptance,  that  must  be, 

My  Christ,  by  Thee. 


53.     TO   DEATH. 

THOU  bidd'st  me  come  away, 

And  I'll  no  longer  stay 

Than  for  to  shed  some  tears 

For  faults  of  former  years, 

And  to  repent  some  crimes  5 

Done  in  the  present  times ; 

And  next,  to  take  a  bit 

Of  bread,  and  wine  with  it ; 

To  d'on  my  robes  of  love, 

Fit  for  the  place  above ;  10 

To  gird  my  loins  about 

With  charity  throughout, 

And  so  to  travail  hence 

With  feet  of  innocence  : 

These  done,  I'll  only  cry,  15 

God,  mercy!  and  so  die. 


146  HIS  NOBLE   NUMBERS. 

59.     TO   HIS    SAVIOUR,   A   CHILD;    A    PRESENT,   BY    A 
CHILD. 

Go,  pretty  child,  and  bear  this  flower 

Unto  thy  little  Saviour ; 

And  tell  Him,  by  that  bud  now  blown, 

He  is  the  Rose  of  Sharon  known. 

When  thou  hast  said  so,  stick  it  there  5 

Upon  His  bib  or  stomacher ; 

And  tell  Him,  for  good  handsel  too, 

That  thou  hast  brought  a  whistle  new, 

Made  of  a  clean  strait  oaten  reed, 

To  charm  His  cries  at  time  of  need.  10 

Tell  Him,  for  coral  thou  hast  none, 

But  if  thou  hadst,  He  should  have  one ; 

But  poor  thou  art,  and  known  to  be 

Even  as  moneyless  as  He. 

Lastly,  if  thou  canst,  win  a  kiss  15 

From  those  mellifluous  lips  of  His ; 

Then  never  take  a  second  on, 

To  spoil  the  first  impression. 


77.     TO   HIS   SWEET   SAVIOUR. 

NIGHT  hath  no  wings  to  him  that  cannot  sleep, 
And  Time  seems  then  not  for  to  fly,  but  creep ; 
Slowly  her  chariot  drives,  as  if  that  she 
Had  broke  her  wheel  or  crack'd  her  axletree. 
Just  so  it  is  with  me,  who  list'ning,  pray 
The  winds  to  blow  the  tedious  night  away, 
That  I  might  see  the  cheerful  peeping  day. 
Sick  is  my  heart.     O  Saviour  !  do  thou  please 
To  make  my  bed  soft  in  my  sicknesses ; 
Lighten  my  candle,  so  that  I  beneath, 


ffIS  NOBLE  NUMBERS.  147 

Sleep  not  for  ever  in  the  vaults  of  death ; 

Let  me  Thy  voice  betimes  i'  th'  morning  hear ; 

Call,  and  I'll  come ;  say  Thou  the  when  and  where : 

Draw  me  but  first,  and  after  Thee  I'll  run, 

And  make  no  one  stop  till  my  race  be  done.  15 

83.     THE  DIRGE  OF   JEPHTHAH'S   DAUGHTER:    SUNG 
BY   THE   VIRGINS. 

O  THOU,  the  wonder  of  all  days ! 
O  paragon,  and  pearl  of  praise  ! 
O  Virgin-martyr,  ever  blest 
Above  the  rest 

Of  all  the  maiden-train !     We  come,  5 

And  bring  fresh  strewings  to  thy  tomb. 

Thus,  thus,  and  thus  we  compass  round 
Thy  harmless  and  unhaunted  ground, 
And  as  we  sing  thy  dirge,  we  will 

The  daffodil  10 

And  other  flowers  lay  upon 
The  altar  of  our  love,  thy  stone. 

Thou  wonder  of  all  maids,  li'st  here, 

Of  daughters  all  the  dearest  dear, 

The  eye  of  virgins  ;  nay,  the  queen  15 

Of  this  smooth  green, 
And  all  sweet  meads  from  whence  we  get 
The  primrose  and  the  violet. 

Too  soon,  too  dear  did  Jephthah  buy, 
By  thy  sad  loss,  our  liberty ;  20 

His  was  the  bond  and  cov'nant,  yet 
Thou  paid'st  the  debt ; 
Lamented  maid !     He  won  the  day, 
But  for  the  conquest  thou  didst  pay. 


148  HIS  NOBLE  NUMBERS. 

Thy  father  brought  with  him  along  25 

The  olive  branch  and  victor's  song ; 
He  slew  the  Ammonites,  we  know, 

But  to  thy  woe  ; 

And  in  the  purchase  of  our  peace, 
The  cure  was  worse  than  the  disease.  30 

For  which  obedient  zeal  of  thine 
We  offer  here,  before  thy  shrine, 
Our  sighs  for  storax,  tears  for  wine  ; 

And  to  make  fine 

And  fresh  thy  hearsejcloth,  we  will  here  35 

Four  times  bestrew  thee  ev'ry  year. 

Receive,  for  this  thy  praise,  our  tears  ; 
Receive  this  offering  of  our  hairs ; 
Receive  these  crystal  vials,  fill'd 

With  tears  distill'd  40 

From  teeming  eyes ;  to  these  we  bring, 
Each  maid,  her  silver  filleting 

To  gild  thy  tomb,  besides,  these  cauls, 
These  laces,  ribbands,  and  these  falls, 
These  veils  wherewith  we  use  to  hide  45 

The  bashful  bride, 
When  we  conduct  her  to  her  groom : 
All,  all  we  lay  upon  thy  tomb. 

No  more,  no  more,  since  thou  art  dead, 

Shall  we  e'er  bring  coy  brides  to  bed ;  5° 

No  more,  at  yearly  festivals, 

We  cowslip  balls 

Or  chains  of  columbines  shall  make 
For  this  or  that  occasion's  sake. 


HIS  NOBLE  NUMBERS.  149 

No,  no ;  our  maiden  pleasures  be  55 

Wrapt  in  the  winding-sheet  with  thee  ; 
'Tis  we  are  dead,  though  not  i'  th'  grave, 

Or  if  we  have 

One  seed  of  life  left,  'tis  to  keep 
A  Lent  for  thee,  to  fast  and  weep.  60 

Sleep  in  thy  peace,  thy  bed  of  spice, 

And  make  this  place  all  paradise ; 

May  sweets  grow  here,  and  smoke  from  hence 

Fat  frankincense ; 

Let  balm  and  cassia  send  their  scent  65 

From  out  thy  maiden  monument. 

May  no  wolf  howl,  or  screech  owl  stir 

A  wing  about  thy  sepulchre  ; 

No  boisterous  winds  or  storms  come  hither, 

To  starve  or  wither  70 

Thy  soft  sweet  earth,  but,  like  a  spring, 
Love  keep  it  ever  flourishing. 

May  all  shy  maids  at  wonted  hours 

Come  forth  to  strew  thy  tomb  with  flow'rs ; 

May  virgins,  when  they  come  to  mourn,  75 

Male  incense  burn 
Upon  thine  altar,  then  return 
And  leave  thee  sleeping  in  thy  urn. 

95.     ANOTHER   GRACE   FOR   A   CHILD. 

HERE  a  little  child  I  stand, 

Heaving  up  my  either  hand  ; 

Cold  as  paddocks  though  they  be, 

Here  I  lift  them  up  to  Thee, 

For  a  benison  to  fall  5 

On  our  meat  and  on  us  all.     Amen. 


150  HIS  NOBLE  NUMBERS. 

96.     A   CHRISTMAS    CAROL,    SUNG   TO    THE    KING    IN 
THE   PRESENCE   AT   WHITEHALL. 

Chor.  WHAT  sweeter  music  can  we  bring 
Than  a  carol,  for  to  sing 
The  birth  of  this  our  heavenly  King? 
Awake  the  voice  !  awake  the  string ! 
Heart,  ear,  and  eye,  and  every  thing,  5 

Awake !  the  while  the  active  finger 
Runs  division  with  the  singer. 

From  the  Flourish  they  came  to  the  Song. 

1.  Dark  and  dull  night,  fly  hence  away, 
And  give  the  honor  to  this  day 

That  sees  December  turn'd  to  May.  10 

2.  If  we  may  ask  the  reason,  say 

The  why  and  wherefore  all  things  here 
Seem  like  the  spring-time  of  the  year? 

3.  Why  does  the  chilling  winter's  morn 

Smile  like  a  field  beset  with  corn  ;  15 

Or  smell  like  to  a  mead  new-shorn, 

Thus  on  the  sudden?     4.  Come  and  see 

The  cause  why  things  thus  fragrant  be. 

'Tis  He  is  born,  whose  quick'ning  birth 

Gives  life  and  lustre,  public  mirth,  20 

To  heaven  and  the  under  earth. 

Chor.  We  see  Him  come,  and  know  Him  ours, 
Who,  with  His  sunshine  and  His  showers, 
Turns  all  the  patient  ground  to  flowers. 

i.     The  Darling  of  the  world  is  come,  25 

And  fit  it  is  we  find  a  room 
To  welcome  Him.     2.  The  nobler  part 
Of  all  the  house  here  is  the  heart, 


HIS  NOBLE  NU AIDERS.  151 

Chor.  Which  we  will  give  Him,  and  bequeath 

This  holly  and  this  ivy  wreath,  30 

To  do  Him  honor,  who 's  our  King, 
And  Lord  of  all  this  revelling. 

The  musical  part  was  composed  by 
M.  HENRY  LA  WES. 


102.     THE   STAR   SONG;   A   CAROL   TO   THE   KING. 
SUNG   AT   WHITEHALL. 

The  flourish  of  music:  then  followed  the  song. 

1.  TELL  us,  thou  clear  and  heavenly  tongue, 
Where  is  the  Babe  but  lately  sprung? 
Lies  He  the  lily-banks  among? 

2.  Or  say,  if  this  new  Birth  of  ours 
Sleeps,  laid  within  some  ark  of  flowers, 
Spangled  with  dew-light ;  thou  canst  clear 
All  doubts,  and  manifest  the  where. 

3.  Declare  to  us,  bright  star,  if  we  shall  seek 
Him  in  the  morning's  blushing  cheek, 

\    Or  search  the  bed  of  spices  through 
To  find  him  out? 

Star.  No,  this  ye  need  not  do ; 

But  only  come  and  see  Him  rest, 
A  princely  Babe,  in's  mother's  breast. 

Chor.  He's  seen  !     He's  seen  !     Why  then  around 
Let's  kiss  the  sweet  and  holy  ground, 
And  all  rejoice  that  we  have  found 
A  King  before  conception  crown'd. 

4.  Come  then,  come  then,  and  let  us  bring 
Unto  our  pretty  Twelfth-tide  King 
Each  one  his  several  offering ; 


152  HIS  NOBLE   NUMBERS. 

Chor.  And  when  night  comes  we'll  give  Him  wassailing; 
And  that  His  treble  honors  may  be  seen, 
We'll  choose  Him  King,  and  make  His  mother  Queen. 

115.     HIS    WISH   TO   GOD. 

I  WOULD  to  God  that  mine  old  age  might  have, 

Before  my  last,  but  here  a  living  grave, 

Some  one  poor  alms-house,  there  to  lie  or  stir, 

Ghost-like,  as  in  my  meaner  sepulchre. 

A  little  piggin  and  a  pipkin  by, 

To  hold  things  fitting  my  necessity, 

Which  rightly  us'd,  both  in  their  time  and  place, 

Might  me  excite  to  fore  and  after-grace. 

Thy  cross,  my  Christ,  fix'd  'fore  mine  eyes  should  be 

Not  to  adore  that,  but  to  worship  Thee. 

So  here  the  remnant  of  my  days  I'd  spend, 

Reading  Thy  Bible  and  my  book ;  so  end. 

121.     THE   BELLMAN. 

ALONG  the  dark  and  silent  night, 
With  my  lantern  and  my  light, 
And  the  tinkling  of  my  bell, 
Thus  I  walk,  and  this  I  tell : 
Death  and  dreadfulness  call  on 
To  the  gen'ral  Session, 
To  whose  dismal  bar  we  there 
All  accounts  must  come  to  clear. 
Scores  of  sins  w'ave  made  here  many, 
Wip'd  out  few,  God  knows,  if  any. 
Rise,  ye  debtors,  then,  and  fall 
To  make  payment  while  I  call. 
Ponder  this,  when  I  am  gone  ; 
By  the  clock  'tis  almost  one. 


HIS  NOBLE  NUMBERS.  153 

215.     PREDESTINATION. 

PREDESTINATION  is  the  cause  alone 
Of  many  standing,  but  of  fall  to  none. 

221.    CHRIST. 

To  all  our  wounds  here,  whatsoe'er  they  be, 
Christ  is  the  one  sufficient  remedy. 

228.     TO   KEEP   A   TRUE   LENT. 

Is  this  a  fast,  to  keep 

The  larder  lean, 

And  clean 
From  fat  of  veals  and  sheep  ? 

Is  it  to  quit  the  dish  5 

Of  flesh,  yet  still 

To  fill 
The  platter  high  with  fish? 

Is  it  to  fast  an  hour, 

Or  ragg'd  to  go,  10 

Or  show 
A  downcast  look,  and  sour  ? 

No ;  'tis  a  fast,  to  dole 

Thy  sheaf  of  wheat 

And  meat  15 

Unto  the  hungry  soul. 

It  is  to  fast  from  strife, 

From  old  debate, 
And  hate ; 
To  circumcise  thy  life.  20 


154  HIS  NOBLE  NUMBERS. 

To  show  a  heart  grief-rent ; 
To  starve  thy  sin, 

Not  bin ; 
And  that's  to  keep  thy  Lent. 


230.     HIS   MEDITATION   UPON   DEATH. 

BE  those  few  hours  which  I  have  yet  to  spend, 

Bless'd  with  the  meditation  of  my  end  ; 

Though  they  be  few  in  number,  I'm  content; 

If  otherwise,  I  stand  indifferent ; 

Nor  makes  it  matter  Nestor's  years  to  tell,  5 

If  man  lives  long,  an  if  he  live  not  well. 

A  multitude  of  days  still  heaped  on 

Seldom  brings  order,  but  confusion. 

Might  I  make  choice,  long  life  should  be  withstood, 

Nor  would  I  care  how  short  it  were,  if  good ;  10 

Which,  to  effect,  let  ev'ry  passing  bell 

Possess  my  thoughts,  next  comes  my  doleful  knell ; 

And  when  the  night  persuades  me  to  my  bed, 

I'll  think  I'm  going  to  be  buried ; 

So  shall  the  blankets  which  come  over  me,  15 

Present  those  turfs  which  once  must  cover  me, 

And  with  as  firm  behavior  I  will  meet 

The  sheet  I  sleep  in  as  my  winding-sheet. 

When  sleep  shall  bathe  his  body  in  mine  eyes, 

I  will  believe  that  then  my  body  dies ;  20 

And  if  I  chance  to  wake,  and  rise  thereon, 

I'll  have  in  mind  my  resurrection, 

Which  must  produce  me  to  that  gen'ral  doom 

To  which  the  peasant,  so  the  prince  must  come, 

To  hear  the  Judge  give  sentence  on  the  throne,  25 

Without  the  least  hope  of  affection. 


HIS  NOBLE  NUMBERS.  155 

Tears  at  that  day  shall  make  but  weak  defence, 

When  hell  and  horror  fright  the  conscience. 

Let  me,  though  late,  yet  at  the  last,  begin 

To  shun  the  least  temptation  to  a  sin ;  30 

Though  to  be  tempted  be  no  sin,  until 

Man  to  th'  alluring  object  gives  his  will. 

Such  let  my  life  assure  me,  when  my  breath 

Goes  thieving  from  me,  I  am  safe  in  death, 

Which  is  the  height  of  comfort ;  when  I  fall  35 

I  rise  triumphant  in  my  funeral. 


OF  all  the  good  things  whatsoe'er  we  do, 
God  is  the  APXH  and  the  TEAO2  too. 


NOTES. 


NOTES. 


To  the  Most  Illustrious,  etc.  Dedicatory  verses  to  illustrious 
persons  were  fashionable  in  Herrick's  day,  and  in  this  opening 
poem  Herrick  follows  the  fashion.  We  need  not  doubt  that  Herrick 
was  devotedly  and  heartily  loyal,  —  the  general  tone  of  his  poetry  is 
enough  to  assure  that  he  was,  —  but  we  cannot  detect  much  more 
than  perfunctory  feeling  in  this  poem.  Herrick  had  celebrated  the 
birth  of  Charles  in  a  Pastoral  (213),  and  had  written  some  other 
poems  to  him.  As  to  how  far  Charles  could  properly  be  called  "  the 
creator"  of  the  poet's  work  (cf.  the  dedication  of  Shakespeare's 
Sonnets:  "  the  only  begetter"),  one  may  form  some  opinion  by  com- 
paring those  poems  that  have  any  reference  to  Charles,  or  any  other 
of  the  royal  family,  and  those  that  have  not. 

1.  The  Argiiment  of  his  Book.  "  One  inhales  with  sense  of  relief 
from  mephitic  air,"  says  Dr.  Grosart  (I.  cxii),  "  the  freshness  of  the 
outburst  that  succeeds  the  verse-dedication."  This  very  pleasant 
little  poem  would  seem  to  have  been  written  by  Herrick  at  some 
time  when  he  was  thinking  over  his  poems,  perhaps  with  a  view  to 
publication.  Dr.  Grosart  considers  it  to  have  been  especially  in- 
tended as  a  sort  of  Table  of  Contents  to  an  intended  edition  (I,  cxiv 
and  cxxi).  Although  it  is  not  necessary  to  go  as  far  as  this  (Diss. 
pp.  10-12),  it  is  of  interest  to  see  how  many  of  the  poems  of  the 
Hesperides  are  here  referred  to  either  directly  or  by  implication. 
The  second  line  refers,  perhaps,  to  The  Succession  of  the  Four  Sweet 
Months  (70)  ;  the  third  to  The  Maypole  (697),  the  Hock-Cart  (250), 
The  Wassail  (478),  The  Wake  (763).  The  fourth  would  refer  to  a 
whole  class  of  poems,  the  Epithalamia,  of  which  that  on  the  marriage 
of  Sir  Clipseby  Crew  (283)  is  a  good  specimen.  See  also  The  Bride- 
cake (807).  The  tenth  refers  to  How  Roses  came  Red  (258,  708)  and 
How  Lilies  came  White  (190),  and,  it  may  be,  to  a  number  of  other 
poems  on  subjects  very  like.  With  line  n  cf.  To  Groves  (451)  and 
Twilight  (860,  1048).  Line  12  refers  to  223,  293,  444.  The  last 
two  lines  may  refer  to  the  Noble  Numbers:  it  is  possible,  indeed, 
that  they  were  added  when  the  poem  was  put  in  its  present  place. 


160  NOTES. 

1  3.     /  sing   of  Maypoles,   etc.      Some  account    of   the   country 
customs  here  alluded  to  will  be  found  in  the  notes  on  the  poems 
just  mentioned. 

Is.  Of  Balm,  etc.  Herrick's  fondness  for  perfumes  is  one  of 
his  noteworthy  characteristics.  Cf.  Introd.,  p.  xxxiii. 

2.  To  his  Muse.     The  antithesis  of  village  and  court,  and  the 
mention  of  the  poor  man's  cell  strike  a  note  not  uncommon.     E.g. 
106  (80-90),  213,  494,  546,  554,  N.N.  47. 

2  9.     And  with  thy  Eclogues.     The  precise  distinction  here  drawn 
between  Eclogue  and  Bucolic  is  not  wholly  clear  to  me.     Professor 
Kittredge  suggests  that  Herrick  may  take  "  Eclogue  as  a  discourse 
of  shepherds  and  Bucolic  as  a  discourse  of  neatherds."     There  is  a 
hint  of  such  distinction  in  11.  7-13  ;  and  494,  An  Eclogue  (wher.e  the 
subject  is  of  shepherds),  and  718,  A  Bucolic :  or  Discourse  of  Neat- 
herds, would  point  in  the  same  direction. 

3.  To  his  Book.     There  are  a  good  many  of  these  little  poems 
addressed  by  Herrick  to  his  book  (Introd.,  pp.  xxviii).  59,  84,  194, 
605,  846,  901,  962,  1127. 

3  3.      Wantonly  to   roam    may   refer   to    the   custom   which    was 
then  in  vogue  of  passing  about  copies  of  verse  in  MS.     A  number 
of  Herrick's  poems  exist  in  MS.;  collations  of  the  important  ones 
will  be  found  in  the  notes  of  Mr.  Pollard's  edition. 

8.  When  he  -would  have  his  verses  read.  In  the  light  of  this 
cheerful  command  it  seems  quite  wrong  to  put  any  study  at  all  on 
Herrick's  poetry.  His  poems  were  to  be  read  only  at  a  favorable 
time:  nor  could  he  write  them  except  at  a  favorable  time  (716). 
Pollard  compares  the  poem  with  Martial,  x.  19,  which  is  somewhat 
longer.  The  last  part  of  our  poem  is  a  good  translation ;  the  rest 
merely  catches  the  idea. 

14.  To  Perilla.  There  are  two  other  poems  addressed  to  Perilla 
(154,  1022),  neither  of  them  as  fine  as  this  one,  which  has  a  grave 
beauty  equal  almost  tp  any  other  one  of  Herrick's.  The  last  line  is 
especially  remarkable.  The  ceremonies  prescribed  are  doubtless 
ideal  (Introd.,  p.  xxxvii).  The  use  of  salt  as  emblem  of  the  soul  is 
noted  by  Mr.  Pollard  and  by  Brand,  II.  234.  The  strewings  are 
of  flowers,  as  frequently  in  the  Hesperides.  Brand  (II.  302-312) 
mentions  many  variations  of  the  custom. 

22.  To  Anthea.  These  ceremonies,  too,  come  from  a  mind  for 
which  such  observances  had  a  strong  fascination.  Wholly  different 
from  those  of  14,  they  are  quite  as  noteworthy  as  indicating  the 
delicate  fancy  which  always  twines  in  with  the  thread  of  Herrick's 


NOTES.  161 

seriousness.  Excepting  the  poems  to  Julia,  which  are  far  more 
numerous,  those  to  Anthea  are  more  interesting  on  the  whole  than 
the  verses  to  any  other  one  of  Herrick's  "  many  dainty  mistresses." 

25.  The  Difference,  etc.  This  poem  is  worth  noting  for  its  possible 
bearing  on  Herrick's  opinions.  We  must,  however,  remember  the 
remark  of  Mr.  Pollard  that  in  these  Gnomic  Couplets  Herrick  is 
almost  as  likely  to  express  ideas  which  he  had  come  across  in  read- 
ing or  otherwise  that  seemed  susceptible  of  epigrammatic  statement, 
as  to  put  forth  any  settled  opinions  of  his  own. 

29.     Love,  what  it  is.     Cf.  841. 

35.  His  sailing  from  Julia.  The  remora  was  the  sea-lamprey, 
which,  according  to  ancient  belief,  attached  itself  to  ships  and  so 
delayed  their  course. 

39.  Upon  the  Loss  of  his  Mistresses.  Julia  is,  of  course,  the  chief, 
the  best  known  of  those  to  whom  Herrick  wrote.  Judging  from  the 
poems  we  have,  we  should  have  expected  to  find  Anthea  second  and 
Perilla  next.  But  one  cannot  insist  on  rigid  rule  and  order  in  such 
matters. 

47.  The  Pares.  This  has  the  tone  of  having  been  written  to 
three  actual  lovely  sisters. 

51.  Discontents  in  Devon.  Mr.  Pollard's  note  is  as  follows: 
"  This  poem  is  often  quoted  to  prove  that  Herrick's  country  in- 
cumbency was  good  for  his  verse,  but  if  the  reference  be  only  to  his 
sacred  poems  or  Noble  Numbers  they  would  only  prove  the  reverse." 
It  would  be  an  error,  however,  to  attempt  to  prove  much  of  any- 
thing from  such  a  poem.  It  may  well  have  been  written  on  a  rainy 
day  when  parishioners  were  bothersome  ;  and  as  to  the  last  lines,  the 
effect  of  Herrick's  stay  in  Devonshire  is  so  marked  that  it  needs  no 
special  proof. 

55.  To  Anthea.  In  some  parishes  of  England  it  was  in  Herrick's 
day  still  the  custom  for  some  of  the  clergy,  and  the  people  too,  to 
march  in  procession  at  certain  times  of  the  year  around  the  parish 
boundaries.  The  object  was  not  only  to  pray  for  a  blessing  on  the 
fruits  of  the  earth,  but  also  to  maintain  the  legal  boundaries  and 
rights.  This  "processioning,"  as  it  was  sometimes  called,  took 
place  on  one  of  the  days  before  Holy  Thursday.  The  "Gospel 
tree  "  here  spoken  of  would  have  been  one  of  the  trees  under  which 
the  minister  paused  to  read  the  service  during  the  march  around  the 
bounds.  See  Brand  I.  197-207. 

70.  The  Succession  of  the  Four  Sweet  Months.  Cf.  The  Argu- 
ment, 1,  2. 


162  NOTES, 

77.  To  the  King.  In  the  summer  of  1644,  after  the  affair  at 
Cropredy  Bridge,  Charles  found  himself  disembarrassed  of  Sir  William 
Waller  and  turned  his  attention  to  the  West.  He  marched  into 
Devonshire  with  a  view  of  joining  Prince  Maurice  and  giving  battle 
to  the  Earl  of  Essex.  The  hopes  of  our  poem  were  to  some  extent 
fulfilled,  for  the  King  succeeded  in  surrounding  the  army  of  Essex 
at  Lostwithiel  in  Cornwall  and  captured  the  greater  part  of  it.  The 
campaign  came  between  Marston  Moor  and  the  second  battle  of 
Newbury.  Clarendon's  book  viii  gives  a  detailed,  interesting,  and 
rather  confused  account. 

77  2.     Universal  genius.     General  protecting  power. 

77  10.     Access.     Coming. 

77  11.     White  omens.     Fortunate  auspices. 

81.  The  Cheat  of  Cupid.     Herrick  is  here  translating  Anacreon, 
31  [3],  as  Greene  had  done  before  him. 

82.  To  the  Reverend  Shade,  etc.     The  full  meaning  of  this  poem 
can  hardly  be  made  out:  line  6  is  as  hard  to  understand  as  any. 
There  was  suspicion  of  suicide  attaching  to  the  death  of  Herrick's 
father,  and  it  may  be  that  he  was  not  buried  in  consecrated  ground. 
Herrick  was  very  young  at  the  time,  and  it  is  possible  that  he  had 
never  till  1627  (seven   lustra  after  1592)  really   known  where  his 
father  had  been  buried.     On  the  other  hand,  it  is  not  improbable 
that  the  language  is  wholly  imaginative.     The  time  of  writing  was 
about    that   of   his  going  to  Devonshire.     These  years   may   have 
been  years  of  change  of  heart  for   the  poet  (cf.  The  Farewell  to 
Poetry,  p.  133),  and  it  may  be  that  he  then  reproached  himself  for 
carelessness  of  his  father's  memory. 

86.  Dean  Bourn.  It  was  the  tradition  (Quarterly  Review  for 
August,  1810,  p.  171)  that  Herrick  uttered  these  verses  when  he  left 
Devonshire  on  being  deprived  in  1648.  The  hope  of  the  first  lines 
was  not  fulfilled,  for  he  did  return  thither  after  the  Restoration,  and 
lived  there  until  he  died.  Dean  was  the  name  of  the  parish ;  Dean 
Bourn  was  the  river ;  Dean  Prior,  Dean  Combe,  Dean  Church  were 
the  villages,  and  Dean  Court  the  manor-house. 

88.  To  Julia.  A  Dardanium,  explains  Herrick  in  the  original 
edition,  was  "  a  bracelet,  from  Dardanus  so  called." 

97.  Duty  to  Tyrants.  This  agrees  with  some  of  Herrick's  utter- 
ances elsewhere,  and  disagrees  with  others. 

106.  A  Country  Life.  This  poem  may  be  compared  with  The 
Country  Life  (664),  addressed  to  Endymion  Porter.  It  is  perhaps 
but  a  fancy,  but  it  seems  to  me  that  this  latter  has  by  far  the  more 


NOTES.  163 

genuine  ring  to  it.  This  present  poem  so  full  of  Horatian  wisdom, 
of  Horatian  ceremony,  and  of  Horatian  reminiscence,  lacks  the  real- 
istic touches  of  the  other.  It  is  more  spun  out  and  less  vital.  It  is 
written  in  the  free  versification  which  I  believe  to  be  characteristic 
of  Herrick's  earlier  poetry,  while  the  other  is  quite  particular  as  to 
overrun  lines.  The  references  in  the  present  poem  to  "  damask'd 
meadows"  (43),  to  "fields  enamelled  with  flowers  "  (46),  to  "millions 
of  lilies  mix'd  with  roses"  (48),  have  not  the  genuine  character  of 
the  "  breath  of  great-ey'd  kine  "  (33)  or  the  "  crowns  of  daffodils  and 
daisies  "  (5l),  though  it  must  be  confessed  that  664  is  not  without 
its  slight  touch  of  enamelling  (29).  But  106  has  more  the  tone  of 
being  written  from  the  city,  perhaps  after  a  visit. 

Mr.  Pollard  (I.  267)  notices  the  many  Horatian  snatches,  and 
quotes  a  few.  We  may  add  one  or  two  more  beside  that  remarked 
in  the  Introduction,  p.  xx.  The  simple  fare  of  ill  recalls 

"  me  pascunt  olivae 
me  cichorea  levesque  malvae,"  QJ  j  Xxxi.  15. 

while  1.  130  was  suggested  by 

"  Auream  quisquis  mediocritatem 
Diligit,"  etc.  od  IIt  x  s 

111.  A  Lyric  to  Mirth.  This  poem  bears  the  earmarks  of 
Herrick's  years  in  London  between  Cambridge  and  Devonshire. 
The  general  Bacchanalian  tone  and  the  references  to  Horace  and 
Anacreon  appear  to  be  more  characteristic  of  this  period  than  of  his 
life  in  Devonshire. 

Ill  4.     Dollies  was  a  cant  term  for  sweethearts. 

Ill  8.     Bite  the  bays.     The  laurel  of  the  poets  is  bay-laurel. 

Ill  13.  Wilson  and  Gotiere.  "Dr.  John  Wilson,  the  singer  and 
composer,  one  of  the  King's  musicians.  Jacques  Gouter,  a  French 
musician  at  the  court  of  Charles  I."  P. 

128.  His  Farewell  to  Sack.  This  poem,  The  Welcome  to  Sack 
(197),  His  Mistress'  Shade  (577),  and  the  Farewell  to  Poetry  (p.  133), 
have  a  sort  of  common  quality  which  makes  it  seem  as  though 
all  were  written  at  about  the  same  time,  —  a  time  which  the  last 
mentioned  (perhaps  also  the  last  written)  would  fix  at  about  1627. 
There  is  certainly  about  all  of  them  a  lack  of  that  fine  restraint  and 
sureness  of  expression  characteristic  of  Herrick's  best  work. 

Of  these  two  poems  on  Sack,  the  Farewell  would  seem  to  have 
been  written  first.  Like  many  of  the  rest  of  us,  Herrick  had  his 


164  NOTES. 

righteous  periods  in  which  he  would  forswear  the  flowing  bowl. 
But  with  Herrick  it  would  seem  that  these  periods  sometimes  came 
to  an  end. 

128  4,  5.  Life  to  quick  action.  Dr.  Grosart  conjectures,  "  to  quick 
our  action,"  which  certainly  makes  better  metre.  We  may,  however, 
read  quick  as  a  verb  without  inserting  the  pronoun. 

128  23.  Thy  mystic  fan  Mr.  Pollard  explains  as  a  translation 
of  the  "mystica  vannus  "  (Georgics,  i.  166)  borne  in  the  Eleusinian 
processions. 

128  36.  Worthy  cedar  and  the  bays.  The  bays  are  of  course  in 
the  poet's  crown.  Cedar-oil  was  used  in  the  preservation  of  manu- 
scripts. In  one  of  the  few  poems  that  we  have  of  Herrick's,  not 
published  in  the  Hesperides,  is  a  couplet  with  the  same  allusion : 

"  O  volume  worthy,  leafe  by  leafe,  and  cover, 
To  be  with  juice  of  cedar  wash't  all  over." 

Upon  Master  Fiddler's  Incomparable  Plays. 

Reprinted  in  G.  iii,  109,  from  Beaumont  and  Fletcher's  works,  1647. 
So  also  in  To  Cedars  (165) : 

"  If  'mongst  my  many  poems,  I  can  see 
One  only  worthy  to  be  washed  by  thee,"  etc. 

197.  The  Welcome  to  Sack.  11.  "  The  heaven's  Osiris  is  the  sun." 
Original  note.  At  one  time  Egypt  seems  to  have  had  a  certain  fas- 
cination for  Herrick.  There  is  a  curious  allusion  to  the  Egyptian 
worship  in  this  poem  (57)  which  I  cannot  explain.  We  have  also 
the  heavenly  Isis  (52),  which  Herrick  explains  as  the  moon.  A  Song 
to  the  Masquers  (15)  ends  with  this  stanza  : 

"  As  goddess  Isis,  when  she  went 
Or  glided  through  the  street, 
Made  all  that  touch'd  her,  with  her  scent, 
And  whom  she  touch'd,  turn  sweet." 

So  in  Love  perfumes  all  parts  (155)  : 

"  Goddess  Isis  can't  transfer 
Musks  and  ambers  more  from  her." 

197  30.  Sulphur,  hair,  and  salt.  Salt  was  used  by  the  Romans  in 
almost  all  their  sacrifices.  Cf.  Saliente  mica,  Hor.  Od.  Ill,  xxiii,  20. 
The  hair  was  sometimes  offered.  It  was  due,  for  instance,  to  Pro- 
serpina. Cf.  Virgil,  Aen.  iv,  698.  But  I  know  of  no  example  of  such 
a  use  of  sulphur. 


NOTES.  165 

197  61.  Cassius.  There  is  a  writer  on  medicine  of  this  name, 
called  sometimes  latrosophista,  sometimes  Felix,  to  whom  Dr.  Gro- 
sart  refers.  It  is  more  probable  that  Herrick  was  thinking  of  that 
Cassius  who,  according  to  Caesar,  had  "a  lean  and  hungry  look." 
Julius  Ctzsar,  i.  2,  94. 

197  62.  The  wise  Cato  was  the  synonym  for  a  rigid  virtue.  Iler- 
rick  often  had  him  in  mind  (8  10). 

178.  Corinna's  going  a-Maying.  This  fine  poem  seems  to  have 
been  the  product  of  Herrick's  earlier  years,  of  his  life  in  London  or 
Cambridge.  It  is  written  as  though  by  a  participant,  and  one  can- 
not well  imagine  Herrick  the  vicar  actually  carrying  into  effect  these 
delightful  precepts,  whereas,  it  is  just  what  we  might  expect  of  the 
student  of  St.  John's  or  the  poet  of  the  Tribe  of  Ben.  The  versifi- 
cation would  incline  one  to  place  it  among  the  earlier  poems.  May- 
day was  of  course  celebrated  in  the  city  as  well  as  in  the  country. 
"In  London,"  says  Brand  (I.  231),  "May-day  was  once  as  much 
observed  as  it  was  in  any  rural  district." 

178  2.  The  god  unshorn  was  Apollo,  the  sun-god,  who  was  regu- 
larly represented  with  unshorn  locks.  Cf.  Tibullus,  ii.  5,  121  :  "Sic 
tibi  sint  intonsi,  Phoebe,  capilli." 

178  4.  Fresh-quilted.  The  figure  may  have  been  borrowed  from 
the  variety  of  colors  in  stuffs  quilted  together. 

178  28.  Few  beads.  The  original  meaning  of  "  bead  "  is  "prayer," 
and  so  it  is  here.  But  by  Herrick's  day  the  word  in  the  sense  of 
"prayer"  was  almost  always  used  with  some  thought  of  the  rosary, 
whence  the  modern  meaning  of  the  word. 

178  29  foil.  On  the  morning  of  May-day  everybody  went  out  early 
and  returned  with  "  birch,  bowes,  branches  of  trees  "  (Stubbes:  Anat- 
omy of  Abuses),  with  which  they  adorned  the  houses  inside  and  out. 

178  35.  White  thorn  was  also  among  the  spoils,  being  highly 
esteemed  for  its  efficacy  against  witches. 

181.  A  Dialogue.  Mr.  R.  Ramsay  was  organist  of  Trinity  Col- 
lege, Cambridge,  1628-1634.  P.  The  poem  is  translated  from 
Hor.  Od.  Ill,  ix. 

186.  This  poem,  which  for  solemn  beauty  may  remind  one  of 
Catullus  (ci.),  follows  immediately  upon  one  written  after  the  death 
of  his  brother  to  Endymion  Porter.  This  latter,  in  its  obsequious 
tone,  shows  an  ill  side  of  the  poet's  character  as  the  present  shows  a 
good  one.  It  begins  with  a  fine  line,  however: 

"  Not  all  thy  flushing  suns  are  set, 
Herrick,  as  yet." 


166  NOTES. 

201.  To  Live  Merrily  and  to  Trust  to  Good  Verses.  This  pleasant 
exercise  in  the  classics  I  take  to  be  a  university  poem,  or  it  may  be 
of  London  origin.  The  climax  is  noteworthy ;  as  genius  wanes  he 
needs  more  wine  ;  a  health  to  Homer,  a  cup  to  Virgil,  a  goblet  to 
Ovid,  an  "immensive  cup"  to  Catullus,  a  tun  to  Propertius,  and  a 
flood  to  Tibullus.  Here  he  pauses  with  a  moral  reflection. 

201  32.  Bite  the  bays.  Cf.  Ill  8.  The  priests  of  Apollo  ate  bay- 
leaves  to  give  them  prophetic  inspiration.  The  notion  is  carried 
over  to  the  poets,  as  in  Juvenal,  Sat.  vii,  18,  19 : 

"  nectit  quicunque  canoris 
Eloquium  vocale  modis  laurumque  momordit." 

205.  To  Violets.  The  turn  at  the  end  is  common  to  many  of 
Herrick's  amatory  verses. 

208.  To  the  Virgins.  This  poem  may  owe  a  part  of  its  popu- 
larity to  its  having  been  early  set  to  music  by  William  Lawes.  It  is 
certainly  one  of  the  best  known  of  Herrick's  lyrics,  though  by  no 
means  the  best,  for  there  are  not  a  few  less  known  which  are  quite 
as  exquisite.  • 

211.  His  Poetry  his  Pillar.  This  poem  may  be  compared  with  a 
number  of  others  (v.  Introd.,  pp.  xxvii,  xxviii),  and  especially  with  The 
Pillar  of  Fame  (1131). 

213.  A  Pastoral.  This  poem  is  a  good  illustration  of  the  length 
to  which  poets  of  Herrick's  time  were  willing  to  go  for  the  sake  of 
a  compliment  to  royalty,  and  of  how  far  the  divinity  that  doth  hedge 
a  king  could  blind  a  clergyman  to  decency.  This  poem  on  the  birth 
of  Charles  II.  is  of  course  a  distinct  adaptation  of  the  events 
accompanying  the  birth  of  Christ.  We  have  the  shepherds  and  the 
star  as  in  the  Gospels,  the  simple  shepherd's  gifts  as  in  the  popular 
tradition  and  the  miracle  plays  ;  we  even  have  the  same  line  used  in 
honor  of  Charles  that  Herrick  elsewhere  uses  in  honor  of  Christ  (as 
pointed  out  by  Mr.  Pollard  :  "  And  all  most  sweet,  yet  all  less  sweet 
than  he  "  ;  found  also  in  The  New  Year's  Gift,  N.N.  97  10).  All  the 
grace  of  the  fancy  and  diction  cannot  render  the  poem  pleasing  to  a 
modern  mind,  the  feeling  throughout  is  so  intensely  vulgar. 

213  20.  A  silver  star.  This  was  the  compliment  of  the  time  :  the 
star  appeared  again  at  the  Restoration.  Cf.  Dryden,  Astrcea  Redux, 

288-291  : 

"  That  star  that  at  your  birth  shone  out  so  bright, 
It  stain'd  the  duller  sun's  meridian  light, 
Did  once  again  its  potent  fires  renew, 
Guiding  our  eyes  to  find  and  worship  you." 


NOTES.  167 

216.  A  Meditation  for  his  Mistress.  The  mood  wherein  these 
stanzas  end  is  not  uncommon.  Sometimes  Herrick  meditates  on 
his  mistress'  death,  sometimes  on  his  own  :  here  on  both,  as  at  the 
end  of  The  Changes,  252. 

218.  Lyric  for  Legacies.  Herrick  loved  to  think  of  the  circle  of 
his  friends,  and  loved  also  to  think  of  the  verses  which  he  had 
written  to  celebrate  his  friendship  for  them.  As  he  often  prophesies 
immortality  for  himself  (211,  366,  1131),  so  does  he  often  promise  it 
to  his  friends  (445,  666,  806).  Cf.  509,  Upon  Himself: 

"  Th'art  hence  removing,  like  a  shepherd's  tent, 
And  walk  thou  must  the  way  that  others  went : 
Fall  thou  must  first,  then  rise  to  life  with  these 
Marked  in  thy  book  for  faithful  witnesses." 

223.  It  seems  best  to  put  the  three  chief  fairy  poems  together, 
for  they  are  obviously  connected.  Whether  they  were  written  at 
one  time  or  not  may  be  doubtful ;  but  they  were  undoubtedly  written 
with  thought  of  each  other.  It  is  possible  that  the  Feast  and  the 
Palace  were  first  written  and  the  Temple  afterward.  In  favor  of  this 
view  it  may  be  remarked  that  the  versification  of  the  Temple  differs 
decidedly  from  that  of  the  other  two,  that  the  Temple  is  dedicated, 
not  to  Shapcot  for  whom  the  two  others  were  written,  but  to 
another,  and  that  the  Feast  and  the  Palace  refer  to  each  other  but 
not  to  the  Temple,  whereas  the  Temple  does  refer  to  the  Feast.  It 
may  be  that  Herrick  wrote  the  two  secular  poems  before  ordination, 
and  afterwards  turned  his  attention  to  the  state  of  ecclesiastical 
matters  among  the  fairies.  But  the  matter  is  not  important;  when- 
ever written,  the  three  poems  should  be  read  together. 

Critics  have  busied  themselves  by  looking  about  to  see  where 
Herrick  got  hints  for  these  poems.  Mr.  Edmund  Gosse  mentions 
Jonson's  Oberon,  but  Dr.  Grosart  shows  that  this  must  be  an  error. 
Grosart  himself  thinks  of  Drayton's  Nymphidia,  and  Mr.  Pollard 
concurs.  It  may  be,  of  course,  that  Herrick  gained  inspiration  from 
some  especial  source.  But  it  must,  I  think,  be  allowed  that  this 
fanciful  way  of  imagining  the  surroundings  of  Oberon  and  Mab  was 
more  or  less  of  a  poetic  commonplace  at  just  this  time.  We  need 
not  believe  that  Herrick  borrowed  his  idea  from  Shakespeare, — 
so  far  as  we  can  see,  he  was  singularly  uninfluenced  by  the  great 
dramatist,  —  but  certainly  the  fancies  of  Titania's  orders  (M.  N.  £>., 
iii,  i)  and  of  Mercutio's  speech  on  Queen  Mab  (ft.  &>  f.,  i,  4,  59  ff.) 
are  distinctly  of  the  same  nature  as  those  on  which  these  fairy  poems 


168  NOTES. 

are  based.  The  difference  is  in  treatment;  with  Shakespeare  the 
idea  is  but  a  passing  fancy,  while  Ilerrick  develops  it  to  its  utmost. 

There  is  much  lore  about  these  poems  which  may  be  found  in 
G.,  I,  clix-clxv,  and  P.,  II,  306-311.  In  a  little  volume  of  a  dozen 
pages,  published  in  1635,  of  which  the  only  copy  known  is  in  the 
Bodleian,  are  two  poems,  A  Description  of  the  Kings  (sic)  of  Fayries 
Clothes,  brought  to  him  on  New-Yeares  day  in  the  morning,  1626, 
by  his  Queenes  Chambermaids,  and  A  Description  of  his  Diet.  Both 
may  be  found  reprinted  in  P.,  II,  Appendix  II.  The  second  is 
evidently  a  first  draught  of  Oberon's  Feast,  containing  about  two- 
thirds  of  the  lines  in  slightly  varying  form  and  order.  The  other 
poem,  which  is  in  precisely  the  same  manner,  is  conjectured  by  Mr. 
Pollard  to  have  been  written  by  Sir  Simeon  in  answer  to  A  New 
Year's  Gift  (319).  Several  questions  are  here  raised.  Mr.  Pollard 
says  of  Herrick's  Fairy  poems  :  "  All  three  were  probably  written 
in  1626  and  cannot  be  dissociated  from  Drayton's  Nymphidia, 
published  in  1627,  and  Sir  Simeon  Steward's  A  Description  of  the 
King  of  Fayiies  Clothes  "  (P.,  II,  306).  As  above,  however,  I  believe 
The  Temple  to  have  been  written  later. 

223  4.  The  halcyon's  nest  has  been  dear  to  the  poets  since  Ovid 
(Metam.  x).  It  floated  upon  the  waters  while  the  kingfisher  hatched 
out  her  brood,  the  fourteen  days  before  the  winter  solstice.  During 
these  days  the  winds  were  quiet,  for  y£olus  their  king  had  been  the 
father  of  Alcyone  in  mortal  shape. 

223  9.     House  of  Rimmon.     II  Kings  v,  18. 

223  29.     MaWs  state,  i.e.,  her  chair  of  state. 

223  41.     Favor  your  tongues.     Favete  linguis,  Horace,  Od.  Ill,  i,  2. 

223  43.  The  procul  este  profani  of  the  Aeneid,  vi,  258,  profane 
meaning  merely  the  uninitiated. 

223  47.  Odd,  not  even  pairs.  Perhaps  because  there's  luck  in  odd 
numbers.  "Numero  deus  impare  gaudet."  Virgil,  Eel.  viii,  75. 

223  51.  This  allusion  (to  the  sacrifice  of  the  mass)  is  one  of  those 
which  strike  a  modern  ear  as  blasphemous.  The  Holy  Grist  seems 
to  be  the  sacred  wafer. 

223  52.     In  mood  and  perfect  tense.     In  perfect  manner  and  time. 

223  59.  Points.  A  point  was  a  lace  with  a  metal  tag  on  the  end 
used  for  fastening  the  clothes. 

223  117.  Fasting  spittle.  The  spittle  of  a  fasting  person  was 
vulgarly  held  to  be  of  exceptional  value  in  charms  and  ceremonies. 
Probably  Herrick  had  also  in  mind  the  use  of  saliva  in  some  of  the 
sacraments  of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church. 


NOTES.  169 

223  131.  The  Lady  of  the  Lobster.  This  is  a  coarse  burlesque  of 
such  terms  as  Our  Lady  of  Loretto.  The  lady  of  a  lobster  is  a  sort 
of  calcareous  substance  in  the  stomach,  which  assists  digestion. 

293.  Oberon's  Feast.  There  are  two  MS.  copies  of  this  poem. 
Mr.  Pollard  collates  that  in  the  British  Museum  (I,  295).  The 
differences  are  very  interesting  as  showing  the  care  that  Herrick 
took  in  perfecting  his  work. 

293  10.     Grit  is  usually  the  coarser  part  of  the  meal. 

293  11.     Nice.     Delicate,  exquisite. 

293  15.  To  stir  his  spleen.  The  spleen  was  supposed  to  be  the 
seat  of  different  passions.  The  word  is  common,  meaning  melan- 
choly, or  often  risibility,  which  comes  nearer  the  mark  here. 

293  28.  Cuckoo's  spittle,  "  the  white  froth  which  encloses  the  larva 
of  the  cicada  spumaria."  G. 

293  33.  Sag  seems  to  be  for  sagging.  The  meaning  is  clearly 
heavy,  but  the  form  is  out  of  the  way.  Cf.  however,  "  came  too  lag 
to  see  him  buried."  Rich.  Ill,  ii,  I,  90. 

293  43.  Mandrake's  ears.  The  root  of  the  Mandragora  was  sup- 
posed to  resemble  a  man  and  to  have  life.  Popular  tradition  usually 
went  no  further  than  its  vocal  organs  ;  it  cried  out  lamentably  when 
torn  from  the  ground.  Cf.  R.  &*  J.,  iv,  3,  47. 

293  44.  Slain  stags.  Such  as  served  Jaques  for  his  moralizing,  As 
You  Like  It,  ii,  i,  41.  It  was  a  common  notion  that  the  stag  or 
hart  wept  when  he  received  his  death-wound. 

444.  Oberon's  Palace.  There  are  three  MS.  versions  of  this 
poem  which  give  not  only  a  number  of  variants  but  also  a  passage 
of  twenty-seven  lines  not  in  the  Hesperides.  It  is  in  precisely  the 
same  humor  as  the  rest,  and  may  be  found  in  P.,  I,  309. 

444  14.  Carries  hay  in's  horn  (foenum  habet  in  cornu).  Is  dan- 
gerous. 

444  28.     Lemster  ore.     The  special  riches  of  Leominster  was  wool. 

444  34.  Wild  digestion.  Cf.  wild  civility.  83  12.  The  flowers 
are  digested  or  arranged,  but  in  a  natural  carelessness. 

444  36.  Love's  sampler.  It  is  possible  that  the  present  generation 
do  not  remember  that  a  sampler  is  a  piece  of  worsted  work.  Cf. 
2562. 

444  37.     Cit/ierea's  ceston.     Venus'  girdle  of  beauty. 

444  57.  Toadstones.  It  was  the  superstition  of  the  day  that  the 
toad  bore  a  precious  stone  in  his  head ;  cf.  As  You  Like  It,  ii,  i,  14. 

444  60.  A  wart  may  be  sold  to  any  one  who  will  give  a  penny  for 
it.  The  warts  pass  from  the  hand  of  the  seller  to  the  buyer.  These 
seem  to  have  got  stolen  on  the  way. 


170  NOTES. 

444  82.      Winds  his  errors  up.     Brings  his  wanderings  to  an  end. 

225.  Plaudit.  The  call  for  applause  at  the  end  of  the  play  ;  short 
for  the  imperative  plaudite. 

250.  The  Hock  Cart.  Mildmay  Fane,  second  Earl  of  West- 
moreland, was  a  patron  of  Herrick's,  as  appears  from  112.  It  was 
customary  throughout  England  to  celebrate  the  gathering  in  of  the 
harvest  in  various  ways.  The  Hock  cart  was  the  last  cart  in  from 
the  fields.  We  find  in  Brand  (II,  16-33)  an  account  of  the  different 
customs  which  obtained  in  different  parts  of  England.  Our  poem 
hardly  needs  any  comment,  so  fresh  and  vivid  is  its  picture  of  the 
festivity. 

250  2.  Wine  and  oil  is  a  little  conventional  as  addressed  to  Eng- 
lish farm  laborers. 

250  5.  It  may  not  be  superfluous  to  caution  American  readers 
against  trying  to  conceive  of  ears  of  Indian  corn  used  in  this  man- 
ner. 

250  13.  Swains  and  wenches.  The  former  word  became  a  very 
elegant  term  in  the  next  century,  the  latter  quite  the  reverse. 

250  34.  Frumenty  is  made  of  wheat  boiled  in  milk,  with  black 
currants  in  it. 

250  41.  Wheaten  hats  were  twisted  from  the  straw.  Cf.  the  rye- 
straw  hats  of  the  reapers  in  the  masque  in  the  Tempest,  v,  i. 

256  2.     Cf.  444  36. 

256  6.  Hearse-cloth  does  not  refer  to  a  hearse  as  we  use  the  word 
to-day.  It  means  here  simply  the  covering  for  a  corpse  or  a  coffin. 

256  21.  Virgil's  gnat.  The  Culex  was  then  generally  held  to  be 
by  Virgil.  Spenser  translated  it,  and  Herrick  refers  to  it  again 
(499  9). 

258.  How  Roses  came  Red.  There  are  a  number  of  other  poems 
giving  us  Herrick's  views  on  Evolution,  as  illustrated  in  his  garden. 
He  changed  his  views  on  Roses  (cf.  708). 

262.  To  the  Willow  Tree.  This  poem  is  good  comment  on  the 
expression  "wearing  the  willow,"  the  symbol  of  the  deserted  lover. 
Cf.  Desdemona's  song  in  Othello,  iv,  3. 

267.  To  Anthea.  This  is  one  of  the  best  known  of  Herrick's 
poems,  but  I  do  not  think  it  can  compare  with  447,  a  poem  of  its 
own  kind,  or  many  others  of  different  feeling  (e.g.,  316, 89),  which  are 
by  no  means  so  famous. 

267  2.  Protestant.  The  word  is  curiously  used.  But  His  Protes- 
tation to  Perilla  (154)  gives  us  the  probable  meaning.  He  will  live, 
to  assert  his  devotion  to  her, 


NOTES.  171 

269.  Obedience  in  Subjects.  This  is  one  of  the  Sentences  which 
express  Herrick's  loyalty.  He  was  neither  the  first  vicar  nor  the 
last  who  held  strongly  to  the  divine  right  of  kings. 

278.  To  his  Household  Gods.  This  is  one  of  the  poems  which 
have  given  rise  to  the  feeling  that  Herrick  hated  his  life  in  the  coun- 
try and  always  longed  to  be  elsewhere.  The  most  probable  course 
of  feeling  on  his  part,  entirely  aside  from  any  evidence  but  human 
nature  in  general,  would  be  that  at  first,  when  fresh  from  London, 
he  greatly  missed  his  old  surroundings,  and  found  it  hard  to  accus- 
tom himself  to  new  ones.  That  then,  after  some  years,  he  made 
himself  at  home  and  fairly  contented  with  his  lot.  Toward  the  end 
of  his  holding  his  vicarage  the  old  feeling  of  hatred  of  his  surround- 
ings, coupled  now  with  the  monotony  of  years,  might  have  made 
him  once  more  discontented  ;  and  with  Herrick,  who  was  decidedly 
a  man  of  moods,  it  would  not  have  been  at  all  unnatural  that  now 
and  then,  even  in  happier  times,  he  should  have  periods  of  discon- 
tent (v.  p.  xxx).  In  wholly  different  mood  did  he  write  His  Content 
in  the  Country,  554. 

283.  A  Nuptial  Song.  This  is  the  most  elaborate  and  finest  of 
the  several  Epithalamia  that  we  have  from  Herrick.  It  was  written 
in  1625  on  the  marriage  of  Sir  Clipsby  Crew,  who  seems  afterward 
to  have  been  a  friend  and  patron  of  the  poets.  There  are  a  number 
of  poems  to  him  in  the  Hesperides,  as  well  as  an  epitaph  upon  his 
wife  (980). 

283  6.  The  seven  planets  of  the  Ptolemaic  system  counted  the 
sun  and  the  moon,  as  in  Paradise  Lost,  iii,  481-483.  The  addition 
here  mentioned  has  hardly  been  so  permanent  as  those  of  Herschel 
and  Leverrier. 

283  16.  Chaf-d  air.  The  original  reading  is  Chafte-Air.  Mr. 
Morley  reads  chaste.  It  seems  to  me  probable  that  the  word  chafed 
was  suggested  to  Herrick  by  the  mention  of  amber  immediately  be- 
fore. Cf.  375  16,  "  amber  chaf'd  between  the  hands."  That  the  air, 
like  amber,  should  give  forth  fumes  of  Paradise  upon  being  chafed 
is  rather  a  far-fetched  idea,  but  not,  I  think,  too  remote  for  Herrick. 

283  25.  The  phoenix,  when  it  felt  that  its  time  to  die  was  at  hand, 
made  for  itself  a  pyre  of  precious  woods  and  gums,  and  so  expired 
in  a  thick  glory  of  incense. 

283  29.  Bestroking  fate.  Influencing,  compelling  fate,  for  from 
the  ashes  was  born  the  new  Phoenix.  For  the  noun  stroke,  with  kin- 
dred meaning,  cf.  Holland's  Livy  (1600),  p.  109  :  "Appius  was  the 
man  that  bare  the  greatest  stroke." 


172  NOTES. 

283  31.  Hymen,  O  Hymen.  The  cry  to  the  god  of  marriage. 
Cf.  Catullus,  61. 

283  32.  Marjoram.  The  amaracus  of  the  Romans,  which  was 
connected  with  the  idea  of  Love.  Catullus  (61  8)  calls  on  Hymen 
to  wreathe  himself  "  floribus  suave  olentis  amaraci."  Cf.  also 
Lucretius,  iv,  1179. 

283  46.     Wheat,  like  rice,  is  typical  of  fertility. 

283  54.    Nice.    Delicate,  refined,  and  so  in  this  case  modest,  retiring. 

283  84.  Gloves,  scarves,  and  laces  were  given  at  weddings.  The 
bridegroom  gave  the  points  of  his  dress  to  be  scrambled  for,  and  the 
bride  her  laces. 

283  82.     A  siren  in  a  sphere.     Cf.  577  52. 

299.     Cf.  577  52,  Farewell  to  Poetry,  17  (p.  133),  and  N.N.  121. 

299  2.  Benedicite.  The  word  is  to  be  taken  as  an  imperative 
with  the  meaning,  "  Bless  you  (or  us)  from  murders."  Cf.  "  Bless 
thee  from  whirlwinds."  Lear,  iii,  4,  60.  On  benedicite  as  an 
exclamation  to  protect  oneself  on  the  appearance  of  ghosts,  evil 
spirits,  see  Kaufmann,  Trentalle  Sancti  Gregorii,  p.  55  {Erlanger  Bei- 
trdge,  III). 

302.  Upon  Prudence  Baldwin.  She  was  his  maid  or  housekeeper, 
and  (perhaps  owing  to  this  prayer)  recovered  and  lived  a  long  time 
afterward  in  spite  of  the  epitaph  her  master  wrote  for  her  (784). 

302  5.  A  cock  was  the  proper  vow  to  Aesculapius,  when  one 
had  recovered  from  an  illness.  Cf.  the  Phaedo,  155. 

306.  On  Himself.  Pilgrim  seems  to  have  been  the  general  term, 
but  Palmers,  named  from  the  palms  they  brought  back,  were  prop- 
erly such  only  as  had  visited  Jerusalem.  Scallop's  shell.  The  scal- 
lop was  a  sign  that  one  had  visited  the  shrine  of  St.  James  of  Com- 
postella.  Here  as  elsewhere  we  have  an  intimation  that  Herrick 
had  his -times  when  the  Christian's  life  appeared  to  him  as  a  Pil- 
grim's Progress. 

313.  The  Entertainment.  A  part  of  the  wedding  ceremony  was 
formerly  gone  through  at  the  church  door.  Cf.  the  wife  of  Bath  in 
Chaucer's  Prologue,  1.  640.  The  marriage,  for  which  we  have  here 
the  Porch  Verse  and  the  Goodnight,  is  recorded  at  Dean  Prior  as 
celebrated  September  5,  1639. 

313  12.     Fishlike.     The  fecundity  of  fishes  did  yeoman  service  to 
Herrick  as  source  of  simile  or  metaphor.     Fishes  were  convenient 
as  rhyming  with  wishes.     Cf.  283  and  697. 

314  8.      Ravish.      Carry  him   away  as  the   nymphs    carried   off 
Hylas. 


NOTES.  173 

319.  A  New  Year"1!  Gift.  It  is  not  easy  to  say  just  what  events 
may  be  referred  to  in  the  opening  lines.  No  English  navies  were 
burned  at  sea  during  the  time  of  Herrick's  activity,  and  there  were 
too  many  proceedings  that  might  have  been  called  closet  plot  or  open 
vent,  or  outbreak.  The  expression  late-spawned  Tityries  refers  to 
the  bands  of  riotous  young  men  who  paraded  the  streets  of  London 
at  night,  committing  all  manner  of  atrocities  upon  such  unfortunates 
as  happened  to  be  abroad.  They  were  the  predecessors  of  the  Mo- 
hocks of  Queen  Anne's  day,  the  Hectors,  and  others  of  that  ilk. 
Their  name  was  properly  the  "  Tityre  tu's,"  being,  for  some  strange 
reason,  borrowed  from  Virgil's  First  Eclogue.  It  has  usually  been 
supposed  that  the  origin  of  these  bands  was  at  a  period  later  than 
the  publication  of  the  Hesperides.  But  Mr.  Pollard  quotes  a  poem 
in  Musarum  Deliciae,  entitled  The  Tytre-tues,  by  Mr.  George  Cham- 
bers, clearly  written  in  the  time  of  Archbishop  Abbot  (pb.  1633). 
The  Century  Dictionary  quotes  John  Taylor's  Works,  1630.  Mr. 
Pollard  dates  this  poem  circa  1627  (II,  306).  We  have  no  difficulty 
then  in  supposing  that  it  is  to  the  historical  Tityre  tu's  that  our 
poem  refers.  Unfortunately  it  does  not  throw  any  light  on  the 
reason  for  the  name. 

3196.  It  hardly  needed  an  astrologer  to  see  that  the  kingdom 
was  a  little  under  the  weather. 

3197.  Wring  the  freeborn  nosthril :  the  figure  is  from  [wjring- 
ing  the  nostrils  of  a  bull ;  Herrick  may  have  intended  the  double 
meaning. 

319  14.     Fox-f-th"1  hole  was  a  Christmas  game. 

319  16.     Shoe  the  mare  (or  the  wild  mare)  was  another. 

319  17.  The  custom  has  not  yet  passed  away  of  hiding  a  pea  and 
a  bean  in  a  Twelfth-night  cake,  of  which  the  finders  are  hailed  as 
queen  and' king.  Cf.  Twelfth  Night,  1037. 

319  22.  Dr.  Grosart  says  that  this  kind  of  divination  is  more 
common  on  St.  Agnes's  Eve. 

319  23.     Crackling  Laurel.     Cf.  Tibullus,  ii,  5,  81  : 

"  Et  succensa  sacris  crepitet  bene  laurea  flammis, 
Omine  quo  felix  et  sacer  annus  erit." 

319  28.  It  is  of  course  the  consumer  who  becomes  buxom  and 
capers.  From  the  spelling  bucksome  it  may  be  that  Herrick  would 
have  derived  buxom  from  buck.  The  earlier  meaning  is  obedient, 
but  by  Herrick's  day  it  had  got  to  the  present  meaning  which  the 
poet  may  have  developed  a  little. 


174  NOTES. 

319  42.  Liber  Pater.  The  Latin  deity  of  the  fields  and  vineyards. 
But  the  name  was  commonly  used  as  synonymous  with  Bacchus. 

319  47.  Although  we  commonly  think  of  the  bagpipe  as  a  dis- 
tinctly Scottish  instrument,  it  is  used  in  many  other  countries,  and 
was  common  in  England  in  Herrick's  time. 

323.  The  Christian  Militant.  2.  To  dead  as  a  transitive  verb 
occurs  once  or  twice  elsewhere  in  Herrick,  and,  although  not  used 
by  Shakespeare,  may  be  found  in  the  works  of  other  Elizabethans. 

323  4.  Sedition  would  here  seem  to  mean  treachery,  or  perhaps 
disturbance. 

323  5.  That's  counter-proof,  etc.  Equally  undisturbed  by  the  evil 
chances  of  country  or  city. 

327  5.  Balm.  Ultimately  the  same  word  as  balsam,  and  indeed 
both  words  are  used  at  present  with  a  very  general  meaning. 
Herrick  alludes  to  a  particular  kind  of  balm,  an  oily  resinous  sub- 
stance which -came  to  Europe  from  Syria  and  Arabia.  Myrrh,  the 
well-known  perfume  from  the  Arabian  myrtle.  Nard,  short  for 
spikenard,  a  somewhat  traditional  ointment  of  ancient  times.  The 
name  is  given  to  various  modern  productions,  but  Herrick  probably 
had  the  old  spikenard  in  mind.  Concerning  perfumes  in  Herrick's 
poetry,  v.  Introd.,  p.  xxxiii. 

333.  To  Lar.  In  this  poem,  written  we  may  suppose  after  Herrick 
had  been  dispossessed  from  his  vicarage,  he  seems  to  bid  farewell  to 
the  Household  God  with  whom  he  had  been  at  home  so  long. 

336.  His  age.  John  Wickes,  or  Weeks,  to  whom  this  poem  is 
addressed,  was  a  Royalist  wit  and  a  popular  preacher.  G.  With 
the  beginning  compare  the  well-known  "  Eheu  fugaces,"  Horace, 
Od.  II,  xiv,  1-8. 

336  26.  Mr.  Pollard,  always  rich  in  such  reference,  calls  attention 
also  to  Od.  IV,  vii,  14. 

336  28.     Infernal  Jove.     Pluto,  the  ruler  of  the  lower  regions. 

336  34.     See  327  5,  note. 

336  48.  The  peculiar  excellence  of  these  lampreys  came  from 
their  being  fed  on  human  flesh. 

336  52.  Herrick  probably  had  in  mind  the  arched  roofs  of  the 
great  Gothic  halls.  The  word  therefore  conveys  the  idea  of  great 
richness  and  magnificence. 

336  54.  Baudery,  smut.  Herrick  transfers  the  word  from  the 
moral  to  the  material,  or  he  may  have  used  it  without  thought  of 
the  moral  meaning.  The  older  word  bawdy  meant  dirty,  probably 
unconnected  with  bawd. 


NOTES.  175 

336  68.     Less  circular.     Less  united. 

336  83.  Baucis.  The  wife  of  Philemon.  The  visit  of  Jupiter  and 
Mercury  to  the  old  couple  is  told  by  Ovid,  Metam.  iii,  631. 

336  89.  Pussy's  ear.  Many  people  are  now  so  dependent  on  the 
weather  predictions  of  the  Signal  Service  as  to  have  forgotten  that 
the  cat's  washing  her  face  is  a  sign  of  change  of  weather,  and  so  a 
calendar,  though  we  should  rather  say  almanac,  nowadays. 

336  92.  Gripings  of  the  chine.  The  chine  was  properly  the  back- 
bone. These  gripings  may  have  been  rheumatism. 

336  122.  Wild  apple.  For  the  wassail-bowl.  For  a  recipe,  see 
1037- 

Mr.  Pollard  collates,  and  prints  a  portion  of,  a  MS.  version  of  this 
poem.  It  contains  a  good  many  variants  and  some  additional  verses, 
of  which  the  last  is  perhaps  worth  reprinting  :  — 

"  Then  the  next  health  to  friends  of  mine 
In  oysters  and  Burgurtdian  wine, 

Hind,  Goderiske,  Smith, 
And  Nansagge,  sons  of  clune  and  pith, 

Such  who  know  well 
To  board  the  mighty  bowl,  and  spill 
All  mighty  blood,  and  can  do  more 
Than  Jove  and  Chaos  them  before." 

345.  The  Power  in  the  People.  Herrick's  comment  on  Hampden 
and  others  of  like  convictions. 

359.  To  the  Right  Honorable  Philip,  Earl  of  Pembroke  and  Mont- 
gomery. Philip  Herbert,  Earl  of  Montgomery  (1584-1650),  was  the 
brother  of  William  Herbert,  the  friend  of  Shakespeare,  and  succeeded 
him  as  Earl  of  Pembroke.  These  two  were  "  the  incomparable  pair 
of  brethren  "  to  whom  the  First  Folio  of  Shakespeare  was  dedicated. 
Philip  Herbert  was  rather  a  rough  character,  but  in  a  measure  a 
patron  of  literature. 

366.  Upon  Himself.  "  Non  omnis  moriar,"  Horace,  Od.  Ill, 
iv,  6. 

371.  His  Lachrima.  Evidently  written  in  a  gloomy  time,  when 
the  old  days  in  London  seemed  the  only  days  of  joy. 

375.  To  Mrs.  Anne  Soame.  This  is  one  of  the  most  fragrant  of 
all  Herrick's  poems ;  v.  IntroJ.,  p.  xxxiv. 

375  9.  Factors.  The  word  commonly  means  a  sort  of  steward, 
or  agent.  Herrick  uses  it  then  in  the  sense  of  "  doers." 

375  16.     Amber,  when  warmed,  becomes  fragrant. 

375  23.      Warden.     A  kind  of  pear. 


176  NOTES. 

386.  A  Vow  to  Mars.  Herrick  has  six  other  poems  almost  ex- 
actly similar  to  sEsculapius  (302),  Apollo  (303),  Bacchus  (304),  Nep- 
tune (325),  Venus  (337),  and  Minerva  (532).  This  one  seems  written 
merely  with  the  desire  to  fill  up  the  list,  and  with  a  recollection  of 
the  "relicta  non  bene  parmula"  of  Horace  (Od.  II,  ii,  10). 

393.  Lar's  Portion.  This  is  one  of  the  poems  which  give  a  no- 
tion of  the  worship  of  the  gods  of  home,  which  was  the  subject  of 
the  frequent  imagining  of  Herrick.  Cf.  278,  324,  333. 

413.  The  Mad  Maid's  Song.  No  comment  is  needful  to  bring 
out  the  serene  and  pathetic  beauty  of  this,  one  of  the  most  perfect 
of  Herrick's  poems. 

439.  Policy  in  Princes.  This  may  well  refer  to  Strafford,  whose 
fall  had  an  ill  effect  on  the  fortunes  of  his  master.  It  is,  however,  by 
no  means  an  idea  original  with  Herrick.  It  was  a  commonplace 
which  he  picked  up  and  turned  into  verse,  as  doubtless  he  did  many 
another.  Mr.  Pollard  has  pointed  out  that  we  cannot  infer  much 
of  Herrick's  opinion  from  these  distiches.  See  note  on  25. 

447.  To  QLnone.  "  The  brilliant  simplicity  and  pointed  grace  of 
the  three  stanzas  to  CEnone  recall  the  lyrists  of  the  Restoration  in 
their  cleanlier  and  happier  mood."  Swinburne,  in  P.,  I,  xiv. 

451.  To  Groves.  This  poem  is  extremely  interesting,  as  giving 
us  a  hint  of  the  Calendar  of  Saints  in  the  poet's  cult  of  the  god  of 
Love.  The  story  of  Phyllis,  martyr  and  saint,  1. 23  (cf.  Ovid,  Heroides, 
Ep.  ii,  and  To  the  Maids,  618  13),  was  very  like  that  of  Dido,  and 
may  be  read  also  in  Chaucer's  Legend  of  Good  Women,  viii.  The  lot 
of  Iphis,  1.  24,  was  happier.  Born  a  woman,  but  changed  by  Isis  to 
a  man,  (s)he  was  a  witness  rather  of  the  power  of  love  than  its  suf- 
fering. Cf.  Ovid,  Metam.  bk.  ix.  The  story  of  Iphis  is  not  one  of 
the  best  known,  but  I  fancy  it  caught  the  fancy  of  Herrick  through 
its  connection  with  Isis.  Cf.  197  11,  note. 

475  8.  Cock's  first  crow.  All  ghosts  and  fiends  vanished  at  day- 
break. So  the  ghost  in  Hamlet  and  the  Apparition,  577. 

478.  The  Wassail.  "  There  was  an  ancient  custom,  which  is  yet 
retained  in  many  places  on  New  Year's  Eve  :  young  women  went 
about  with  a  Wassail  Bowl  of  spiced  ale,  with  some  sort  of  verses 
that  were  sung  by  them  as  they  went  from  door  to  door.  ...  It 
were  unnecessary  to  add  that  they  accepted  little  presents  on  the 
occasion  from  the  houses  at  which  they  stopped  to  pay  this  annual 
congratulation."  Brand,  I,  i.  The  composition  of  the  wassail  "was 
ale,  nutmeg,  sugar,  toast,  and  roasted  crabs  or  apples."  Ib. 

488.     Loss  from  the  Least.     Compare  704. 


NOTES.  177 

499.     Upon  a  Fly.     5.     Took  state.     Was  proud. 

499  9.     Virgifs  gnat.     Cf.  256  21. 

499  11.     Martial's  bee.     Cf.  Epig.,  10,  32  (P.). 

499  15.     /V«7  was  Herrick's  sparrow.     Cf.  256. 

517.  His  Winding-sheet.  Of  all  Herrick's  more  serious  pieces 
this  is  the  chief.  But  the  absence  of  any  Christian  thought  on  im- 
mortality is  certainly  noteworthy.  Even  such  thought  as  there  is 
has  hardly  the  genuineness  of  the  rest.  The  last  ten  verses  seem 
hardly  of  the  same  piece  as  the  others. 

517  19.     Cf.  Job,iii,  17. 

517  27,29.  The  Star  Chamber  and  the  Court  of  Requests  were 
abolished  in  1641. 

517  46.  The  Platonic  year  is  that  wherein  everything  shall  return 
to  its  original  state.  It  is  the  year  in  which  the  cycles  of  the  seven 
planets  are  fulfilled  on  the  same  day.  Cf.  Plato,  TimcEus,  cap.  33. 

523.  To  Phillis.  One  compares,  of  course,  with  Marlowe's  Pas- 
sionate Shepherd,  which  will  possibly  be  preferred  as  more  perfect 
in  its  self-restraint.  Herrick  makes  no  attempt  to  control  the  exu- 
berance of  fancy  which  the  country  life  calls  up. 

523  26.  Themilis  is  a  pastoral  name  which  I  do  not  find  else- 
where. Milton  uses  Thestilis  in  L 'Allegro,  88. 

523  30.  The  hayes  was  a  winding  country  dance.  Cf.  Sir  John 
Davies's  description  in  his  Orchestra,  st.  53: 

"  Of  all  their  ways  I  love  Meander's  path, 
Which  to  the  tunes  of  dying  swans  do  daunce : 
Such  winding  sleights,  such  turns  and  tricks  he  hath, 
Such  creeks,  such  wrenches,  and  such  dalliaunce, 
That  whether  it  be  hap  or  heedless  chaunce, 
In  his  indented  course  and  wriggling  play 
He  seems  to  daunce  a  perfect  hay." 

Cf.  also  ib.,  st.  47. 

526.  Upon  her  Eyes.     4.     A  baby  there.     Herrick  has  the  figure 
of  babies  in  the  eyes  many  times.     Cf.  Pollard's  note  to  38.     6.     /«- 
telligence.     A  ruling  spirit. 

527.  Upon  her  Feet.     The  reader  will  probably  award  the  palm 
to  Sir  John  Suckling's  better  known 

"  Her  feet  beneath  her  petticoat, 
Like  little  mice,  stole  in  and  out 
As  if  they  feared  the  light." 


178  NOTES. 

532.  A  Vow  to  Minerva.  1.  An  art.  The  use  is  peculiar,  and  1 
find  nothing  to  compare  with  it. 

541.  To  Julia.  Cf.  fntrod.,  p.  xxxvii.  The  last  two  lines  may  be 
compared  with  the  poem  on  the  birth  of  Prince  Charles,  213.  It  would 
be  rather  hard  for  us  to  imagine  a  clergyman  writing  them  (and  the 
poem  may  be  an  early  one)  were  it  not  for  much  more  of  the  same 
sort  in  Renaissance  literature. 

541  3.  The  inarculum  is  explained  in  the  original  edition  as  "a 
twig  of  pomegranate  which  the  queen  priest  did  use  to  wear  on  Tier 
head  at  sacrificing." 

547  2.  One  lip-leaven.  That  which  leavens  the  lips,  permeates 
the  speech.  These  men  are  of  the  same  ruling  tendency  of 
thought. 

547  9.     Prefer  in  the  older  sense,  meaning  to  pict  forward. 

554.  His  Content  in  the  Country.  This  poem  is  quite  as  genuine 
in  feeling  as  those  which  express  his  loathing  of  Devonshire.  The 
poems  may  have  been  written  at  widely  distant  times,  but  it  may 
also  be  believed  that  at  about  the  same  time  Ilerrick  would  have 
been  sometimes  in  one  mood,  sometimes  in  another. 

577.  The  Apparition  if  his  Mistress.  Mr.  Pollard  (ii,  276)  prints 
a  collation  of  the  text  with  that  of  the  1640  edition  of  Shakespeare's 
poems.  Some  of  the  variants  are  worth  mention.  For  instance, 
that  for  Beaumont  and  Fletcher  we  have  not  unnaturally  Shakespeare 
and  Beaumont.  In  my  study  of  the  chronology  of  Herrick's  poems 
I  endeavored  (Diss.,  pp.  37,  38)  to  show  reasons  for  holding  that 
this  poem  was  not  written  after  the  death  of  Jonson,  but  that  the 
allusion  to  Jonson  in  Elysium  was  jocularly  complimentary.  I  had 
not  at  that  time  seen  Mr.  Pollard's  collation  which  (1.  57)  for  "  In 
which  thy  father  Jonson  now  is  placed "  reads  "  shall  be  placed," 
which  certainly  seems  as  though  Jonson  had  been  alive  at  the  time 
of  writing.  By  the  time  of  the  publication  in  the  Hesperides  he  was 
dead,  and  Herrick  changed  the  wording. 

It  is  characteristic  that  Herrick  thinks  first  of  the  delightful  fra- 
grance of  Elysium.  Less  characteristic  are  the  spangles,  tinseling, 
gilding,  and  enamel.  This  artificiality,  which  appears  to  us  at  pres- 
ent as  rather  bad  taste,  was  common  in  Herrick's  day,  but  Herrick 
himself  was  much  freer  of  it  than  most  of  his  contemporaries. 

577  30.  The  incantation  of  his  tongue.  Cf.  "The  holy  incantation 
of  a  verse,"  8  2. 

577  43.  Sharp-fanged  and  snaky  are  far  more  appropriate  epithets 
for  Martial  and  Persius  than  is  towering  for  Lucan.  Lucan  was, 


NOTES.  179 

however,  highly  esteemed  in  Herrick's  day.  We  may  also  compare 
Adonais,  404. 

577  52.  In  their  spheres.  The  Ptolemaic  astronomy  conceived 
of  the  earth  as  surrounded  by  a  number  of  spheres,  —  those  of  each 
planet,  including  the  sun  and  moon,  that  of  the  fixed  stars,  and  so  on. 
Cf.  Plato,  Timaus,  cap.  1 1,  and  Milton,  Paradise  Lost,  iii,  481-484. 

577  53.  Evadne.  The  heroine  in  The  Maid^s  Tragedy,  by  Beau- 
mont and  Fletcher. 

577  62.     Cf.  The  Bellman,  299. 

618.  To  the  Maids.     5.     Draw-gloves.      Brand  (II,  416)  quotes 
243  Draw-gloves,  but  gives  no  other  description,  nor  do  I  find  one 
elsewhere.     Mr.  Pollard's  note  is  "  talking  on  the  fingers,"  Dr.  Gro- 
sart's  "a  now  unknown  game,"  neither  of  which  is  of  much  help. 

618  12.  Philomel  and  Phillis.  These  two  unfortunates  were  favor- 
ite subjects  of  ancient  and  mediaeval  story,  —  Philomel  betrayed  by 
Tereus,  Phyllis  by  Demophon.  Their  stories  may  be  found,  to  men- 
tion one  of  many  places,  in  Chaucer's  Legend  of  Good  Women,  where 
the  excellent  poet  sympathises  loudly  with  them. 

618  24.  Bays  and  rosemary  were  used  at  weddings  and  sometimes 
gilded  (Brand,  II,  119).  The  posy  was  the  inscription  within  the 
ring.  The  giving  of  gloves  and  laces  (ribandings)  to  the  guests 
at  weddings  was  once  as  common  as  the  present  custom  of  giving 
cake. 

619.  His  own  Epitaph.     A  buttoned  staff  seems  to  be  merely  one 
with  a  knob  to  it. 

626.  Poets.  This  distich  should  be  learned  by  heart  by  every  one 
who  would  know  what  manner  of  man  was  Herrick.  It  is  probably 
as  true  of  him  as  of  Ovid  (Tristia,  ii,  353,  4).  Cf.  note  on  the  last 
couplet  in  the  Hesperides. 

636.  To  his  Lovely  Mistresses.  One  of  the  ceremonies  which 
Herrick  loved  to  imagine  when  his  mind  dwelt  on  his  dreamy  cult 
for  the  gods  of  Love  and  Death.  The  word  reverend  has  been 
already  used  in  this  sense  in  speaking  of  "  his  religious  father,"  82. 

645.  The  Hag.  This  has  a  fine  movement,  but  seems  to  need  no 
comment. 

664.  The  Country  Life.  This  is  the  finest  of  Herrick's  Bucolics, 
except  for  its  incomplete  ending.  It  is  very  appropriately  dedicated 
to  Endymion  Porter,  who  seems  to  have  been  a  man  generously  dis- 
posed to  poets  and  to  literature  in  general.  Herrick  wrote  to  him 
various  other  poems  not  in  his  best  vein,  among  them  An  Eclogue  or 
Pastoral  betiveen  Endymion  Porter  and  Lycidas  Herrick  (494),  in 


180  NOTES. 

which  the  poet  with  oaten  pipe  endeavors  to  attract  his  patron  from 
the  court  to  the  country,  promising  him  the  attentions  of  Jessamine, 
Florabel,  and  Drosomel,  of  Tityrus,  Corydon,  and  Thyrsis.  In  this 
poem,  however,  a  far  more  sincere  note  is  struck. 

664  23.  The  best  compost  for  the  lands.  Cf.  773,  8,  and  Hazlitt, 
English  Proverbs,  p.  369  (ed.  1869):  "The  foot  of  the  owner  is  the 
best  manure  for  his  land." 

664  31.  A  present  godlike  power.  This  touch  seems  hardly  nat- 
ural in  Herrick. 

664  28.  The  kingdom's  portion  is  the  ploiv.  The  idea  is  not 
wholly  obvious,  but  Herrick  probably  had  in  mind  the  thought  of 
the  plow  as  the  support  of  the  nation,  as  in  the  old  poem  Speed  the 
Plough. 

664  38.  Mummeries  were  maskings,  usually  at  Christmas  time. 
A  party  of  merry-makers  would  go  masked  from  house  to  house,  a 
favorite  representation  being  that  of  St.  George  and  the  Dragon. 

664  46.  For  sports,  etc.  Herrick  has  celebrated  most  of  these 
events  in  the  country  calendar  by  special  poems.  On  wakes,  v.  763; 
on  maypoles,  697  ;  on  harvest  home,  250;  on  the  wassail  bowl,  478, 
789;  on  Twelfthtide  kings  and  queens,  1037;  Christmas  revelings, 
786,  787.  Quintal  is  here  but  another  form  of  quintain.  It  con- 
sisted of  a  bar  set  up  on  a  pole  so  that  it  could  swing  round.  On 
one  end  was  a  mark,  on  the  other  hung  a  weighted  bag.  The  game 
was  to  run  at  the  mark,  hit  it,  and  escape  before  the  bar  had  swung 
round  and  struck  you  in  the  back.  The  Morris  dance  was  a  favor- 
ite pastime,  most  common  on  Mayday.  The  name  comes  from  the 
word  Moorish,  but  the  characters  personated  in  the  dance  were  not 
Moorish  at  all,  being  very  commonly  Robin  Hood  and  his  followers, 
cf.  763  8. 

664  54.  Whitsun  ale.  Church  ales  were  festivals  in  which  the 
whole  parish  contributed  to  a  brewing,  the  ale  being  on  tap  some- 
times even  in  the  church.  Whitsuntide  was  the  favorite  season, 
although  not  the  only  one.  The  practice  had  by  Herrick's  day  given 
rise  to  great  abuses,  but  it  was  not  wholly  done  away  with  till  much 
later. 

664  62.  Nut-brown  mirth  and  russet  wit.  The  adjectives  are  sug- 
gested by  nut-brown  ale  and  russet  gowns. 

697  12.     Like  to  fishes.     Cf.  313  12,  note. 

704.  Mean  Things  overcome  Mighty.  This,  reflection  may  well 
have  been  occasioned  by  the  assassination  of  Buckingham  by  John 
Felton,  August  23,  1628.  Cf.  488. 


NOTES.  181 

714.  Laxare  Fibulam.  Dr.  Grosart  subjoins  to  the  word  bash- 
fulness,  "  i.e.,  in  greed  to  take  more  and  still  more."  I  should  rather 
take  the  couplet  to  be  a  versifying  of  Herod,  i,  8 :  &/JM  dt  KiQ&vi 
tKdvo/J.tv<{J  ffvveKdtieTcu  Kal  rrfv  aiSw  yvvrf. 

726.     His  Grange.     6.     As  to  Prue,  cf.  302  and  784. 

726  25.     To  these.     In  addition  to  these. 

726  13.  This  special  excellency  of  the  goose  is  quite  as  likely  to 
be  due  to  a  reminiscence  of  Rome  as  to  a  feeling  for  realism. 

726  26.  Tracy  was  the  name  of  his  spaniel,  for  whom  he  wrote  an 
epitaph,  969.  It  used  to  be  said  that  Herrick  had  also  a  pig  whom 
he  taught  to  drink  out  of  a  tankard  ;  but  if  such  were  the  case  he 
seems  to  have  considered  the  pig  no  fit  subject  for  poetry. 

732.  Charon  and  Philomel.  Charon  was  the  ferryman  who  bore 
the  souls  of  the  dead  over  the  Styx.  Philomel  was  the  sister  of 
Procne  (cf.  line  is)  and  the  victim  of  Tereus.  See  the  note  to  618  12. 

753.  Our  own  sins  unseen.  The  idea,  of  course,  is  not  original 
with  Herrick.  Cf.  Phosdrus,  iv,  10,  for  the  fable  of  Jupiter's  giving 
man  two  wallets,  the  one  to  be  worn  before,  the  other  behind. 

763.  The  Wake.  The  wake  was  an  annual  church  festival,  held 
on  the  day  of  the  saint  for  whom  the  church  was  named. 

763  8.  Marian.  Maid  Marian  was  one  of  the  characters  of  the 
Morris  as  well  as  Robin  Hood,  Little  John,  Friar  Tuck,  and  Will 
Scarlet.  So  also  (provided  it  were  not  forgotten)  was  the  Hobby- 
horse. 

763  12.  Base  in  action.  These  barn-stormers  were  as  badly  off 
for  costume  as  for  art  in  their  acting. 

763  17.  Coxcomb.  The  object  of  cudgel-play  (single-stick  or  back- 
swording)  was  to  "  break  the  head,"  —  i.e.,  to  cause  the  blood  to  flow. 

784.  Upon  Prue  his  Maid.  This  epitaph  was  only  sportive,  for 
Prudence  lived  on  till  1678,  long  after  the  Hesperides  was  published. 

786.  Ceremonies  for  Christmas.     These  poems  are  themselves  so 
descriptive  as  to  need  no  comment. 

787.  Christmas  Eve.     3.     Flesh-hooks  =  hands. 

846.  To  his  Book.  There  are  one  or  two  other  poems  in  which 
Herrick  trembles  for  the  fate  of  his  book.  Cf.  962,  1127. 

851.  Satisfaction  for  sufferings.  Herrick's  version  of  the  well- 
known  Forsan  et  haec  olim  meminisse  juvabit.  Aen.  i,  203. 

853.  To  Mr.  Henry  Lawes.  The  friend  of  Milton,  who  set  the 
songs  in  Camus,  and  himself  acted  the  part  of  the  Attendant  Spirit. 
Wilson,  Gotire,  cf.  A  Lyric  to  Mirth,  3.  "  Nicholas  Lanier  was  ap- 
pointed Master  of  the  King's  Music,  1626."  P. 


182  NOTES. 

872.      The  Sacrifice.     Cf.  Introd.,  p.  xxxvii. 

894.  Candlemas  day  is   February   2d ;    the  eve   is   the   day  or 
evening  before.     Another  poem  on  the  same  subject  is  982. 

894  7.  It  was  a  common  superstition  that  the  sun  danced  on 
Easter  Day  in  joy  of  the  Resurrection.  Cf.  Suckling,  Ballad  of  a 
Wedding. 

"  And  oh,  she  dances  such  a  way ! 
No  sun  upon  an  Easter  Day 
Is  half  so  fine  a  sight." 

Sir  Thomas  Brown,  however,  held  that  "  we  shall  not,  I  hope,  dis- 
parage the  Resurrection  of  our  Redeemer  if  we  say  that  the  sun  doth 
not  dance  on  Easter  Day."  Pseudodoxia  Epidemica,  bk.  v,  ch.  23, 

§  14- 

895.  The   Ceremonies  for   Candlemas  Day.     1.      The  Christmas 
brand.     Cf.  786. 

912.  Upon  Ben  fonson.     Jonson  was  in  the  time  of  Herrick's 
stay  in  London  the  great  poet  of  England.     In  his  own  day  he  had 
an  inordinate  reputation  for  scholarship,  wit,  and  genius. 

913.  An   Ode  for  Him.     The  Sun,   the  Dog,  the    Triple   Tun 
were  taverns  of  which  Jonson  was  a  great  frequenter.     But  the 
"Mermaid  "and  the  "Apollo  "  are  the  two  taverns  especially  con- 
nected with  the  name  of  Jonson.     The  "  Mermaid  "  was  the  scene 
of  the  traditional  wit  combats  with  Shakespeare.     It  was  for  the 
"Apollo,"  however,  that  he  seemed  to  have  most  affection,  and  for 
which  he  drew  up  the  rules  for  the  Tribe  of  Ben. 

913  17.  That  talent  spend.  Herrick  had  perhaps  the  parable  of 
Matthew  xxxv  in  mind ;  there,  however,  there  is  no  question  of 
spending  the  talent. 

962.  70  his  Book.  Cf.  846,  1127.  Absyrtus  was  the  brother  of 
Medea.  When  she  fled  from  her  father  with  Jason,  after  the  win- 
ning of  the  Golden  Fleece,  she  took  Absyrtus  with  them.  On  being 
closely  pursued  by  the  Colchians,  she  killed  Absyrtus,  and  cutting 
his  body  to  pieces  she  strewed  them  on  the  waves.  Her  angry 
father,  on  finding  the  fragments,  returned  to  Colchis  to  give  them 
burial,  and  the  lovers  escaped. 

1028.  Saint  Distaff 's  Day.  Work  began  on  the  day  following 
Twelfth  Day,  after  the  Christmas  holidays. 

1030.  His  Tears  to  Thamesis.  Richmond,  Kingston,  and  Hamp- 
ton Court  are  all  on  the  Thames,  just  above  London,  and  now,  as  in 
Herrick's  day,  are  favorite  places  of  resort. 


NOTES.  183 

1037.  Twelfth  Night.  Epiphany.  For  some  other  Twelfth-Night 
customs,  v.  Brand,  I,  21. 

1131.  The  Pillar  of  Fame.  The  writing  of  poems  in  the  actual 
shape  of  some  object  was  one  of  the  artificial  elegancies  of  the  time. 
Thus,  N.N.  268  is  in  the  form  of  a  cross.  See  Introd.,  p.  xxviii,  note. 
With  the  poem,  cf.  Horace,  Od.  Ill,  xxx. 

With  the  last  couplet  compare  the  distich  Poets,  626,  and  Martial, 

i,  5.  § : 

"  Lasciva  est  nobis  pagina :  vita  proba  est." 

His  Farewell  to  Poetry.  The  poem  has  a  number  of  difficult  and 
doubtful  passages,  arising  probably  from  its  never  having  received 
final  correction  for  the  press.  Some  of  these  I  pass  unnoticed, 
there  being  no  sufficient  means  for  determining  the  true  meaning  or 
reading.  In  some  cases  I  call  attention  to  the  difficulty,  as  in  1.  75. 
The  whole  poem  is  to  be  compared  with  those  to  Sack  (128,  197) 
and  The  Apparition  (577). 

2.  Hatched  o'er  with  moonshine.  To  hatch  is  to  overlay  small  and 
numerous  bands  on  a  ground  of  different  material. 

17.     Bellman  of  the  night.     Cf.  299,  577  53,  N.N.  121. 

21.  Drinking  to  the  odd  number  of  nine.     Nine  is  Mr.  Pollard's 
emendation   for    the   MS.   wine.      He   refers   to   A   Bacchan'alian 
Verse  (655): 

"  Well,  I  can  quaff,  I  see, 
To  th'  number  five 
Or  nine," 

where  the  allusion  is  to  the  number  of  cups. 

22.  Fitll  with  God.    Filled  with  the  poetic  inspiration.     Cf.  infra, 
1.42. 

27,  28.     These  two  lines   only  are  addressed   to   Sack.     In  the 
previous  lines  and  those  succeeding  the  subject  is  poetry. 

28.  Fire-drakes.     Here  probably  meteors,  though  the  word  also 
means  will-o'-the-wisps. 

34.  The  general  April.  Probably  the  day  of  judgment,  a  day 
of  smiles  and  tears. 

67.  The  minstrel.  Orpheus,  who  succeeded  in  bringing  his  bride 
Eurydice  out  of  Hades,  but  lost  her  just  as  they  were  reaching  the 
upper  air,  by  turning  to  look  back  at  her. 

71.      The  Grecian  orator  was  Demosthenes. 

75.  Breasts  of  Rome.  Dr.  Grosart  reads  brooks,  but  neither  read- 
ing seems  to  make  sense.  Not  having  access  to  the  MS.,  I  have 


184  NOTES. 

not  attempted  a  conjectural  reading.     It  seems,  however,  that  beasts 
would  be  better  than  either. 

84.  Numerous  feet.  The  word  numbers  was  later  an  elegant 
synonym  for  poetry.  So  Pope  "lisped  in  numbers  for  the  numbers 
came."  Hoofy  Helicon.  The  reference  is,  of  course,  to  Pegasus, 
the  winged  horse  of  the  muses. 


THE   NOBLE   NUMBERS. 

1.  His   Confession.     In  spite  of   Herrick's  regret  for  the  lines 
penned  by  his  wanton  wit,  he  printed  them  in  the  same  volume  with 
these  more  pious  effusions.     The  Noble  Numbers  have,  however,  a 
separate  title-page,  and  are  dated  1647,  a  year  before  the  Hesperides. 
It  is  just  possible  that  Herrick  at  first  contemplated  the  publication 
of  his  religious  poems  only.     They  were  in  all  probability  the  last 
written,  and  it  has  never  been  explained  why  they  should  have  been 
the  first  printed. 

2.  His  Prayer  for  Absolution.    My  unbaptised  rhymes.    Whether 
he  means  the  whole  Hesperides,  or  merely  poems  written  in  London 
before  taking  orders,  is  hard  to  say.     Here  means  in  the  Noble 
Numbers. 

41.  His  Litany.  13.  Artless,  in  the  obvious  but  little-used  mean- 
ing, without  art. 

41  21.  The  passing-bell  was  tolled  as  a  person  was  dying.  Brand, 
II,  202. 

47.  A  Thanksgiving.  4.  Weather-proof,  cf.  336  52.  As  to  Her- 
rick's humble  fare,  we  have  already  referred  to  Horace:  "Chicorea 
levesque  malvae,"  Od.  I,  xxxi,  16. 

59.  To  his  Saviour.  It  is  this  poem  and  An  Ode  (33)  that  led  Mr. 
Gosse  to  write  of  the  Noble  Numbers:  "He  succeeds  best  where 
he  permits  himself  to  adorn  a  celestial  theme  with  the  picturesque 
detail  of  his  secular  poems ;  he  is  happy  if  he  be  allowed  to  crown 
the  infant  Saviour  with  daffodils,  or  pin  a  rose  into  His  stomacher." 
Ward's  English  Poets,  II,  128.  I  should  say,  however,  that  41,  47, 
77,  95  were  superior  to  this  poem ;  they  represent  a  vein  of  genuinely 
serious  thought,  to  be  found  also  in  His  Winding  Sheet  (517),  and 
not  a  few  other  poems  in  the  Hesperides. 


GLOSSARY. 


THIS  Glossary  has  been  made  not  so  much  to  explain  unfamiliar 
words  occurring  in  the  text 1  as  to  exhibit  the  peculiarities  of 
Herrick's  vocabulary.  With  this  view,  a  good  many  words  have 
been  introduced  which  do  not  occur  in  the  poems  selected  for  this 
edition.  On  the  other  hand,  there  are  a  good  many  omissions  in 
the  present  list  as  will  be  seen  at  once  by  comparing  with  Grosart's 
Glossarial  Index.  Matters  of  spelling  are  excluded  for  one  thing,  as 
baptime,  bodies,  bucksome.  A  good  many  words  have  been  considered 
rather  matter  for  an  Index  to  the  Notes  than  a  Glossary,  as  ash- 
heaps,  barley-break,  blue-ruler,  buttoned  staff.  A  number  of  things 
seemed  to  belong  rather  to  syntax,  zsfor  and,  all  and  some.  A  num- 
ber more  were  rather  matters  of  expression  than  of  vocabulary,  as 
abbey-lubbers,  ale-dyed,  blush-guiltiness.  Some  matters  which  belong 
more  properly  to  grammar  will  be  found  in  the  Introduction,  pp. 
lix,  Ix.  Within  these  limits,  however,  it  is  hoped  that  the  Glossary 
will  be  found,  though  not  complete,  at  least  of  value. 

References  are  made  by  poem  and  line. 

Access,  1   5,   admission,   and   so  Ark,  274  6,  basket. 

opportunity.     77  10,  arrival.  Armilet,  47  4.  Apparently  coined 

Aches,  336  87  (as  a  dissyllable).  from  the  Latin  diminutive  ar- 

Admiredly,   821    6.      There    are  milla.    See  p.  Ix. 

contemporary  examples  of  this  Aromatic,  375   14,  444  44.     The 

word,  but  the  form  is  very  un-  word  is  very  rare  as  a  noun. 

common.  Artless,  N.N.,  41  13,  without  art. 

Adulce,  672  6,  to  sweeten.     The  Attent,  250  23,  bent  upon. 

common  spelling  is  addulce.  Auspice,   900   9.      The    singular, 

Affection,  N.Ar.,  230  26,  partiality.  although   uncommon,  may  be 

The  word  was  obsolescent,  even  found  even  in  the  present  cen- 

in  Herrick's  day.  tury. 

Affrightment,  N.N.,  263  21,  fright.  Auspicate,  963  10,  auspicious. 

1  The  readers  for  the  Century  Dictionary  have  gone  over  Herrick  very  thoroughly. 
It  contains  a  great  number  of  those  words  which  occur  only  in  Herrick,  and  there 
are  very  few  words  in  Herrick  which  it  does  not  have. 


186 


GLOSSARY. 


Babyship,  213  26.    See  p.  lx. 

Barbel,  336  46,  a  kind  of  fish. 

Batten,  554  13,  to  thrive,  to  get  fat. 

Baudery,  336  54,  smut. 

Benizon,  725  4,  a  blessing,  bene- 
diction. 

Bents,  894  17,  223  95.  The  name 
bent-grass  is  given  loosely  to 
any  stiff  grass. 

Be-,  compounds  in.    See  p.  lix. 

Be-strutted,  293  34.    See  to  strut. 

Bishop,  vb.,  168  10.  Dryden,  Cym. 
and  Iphig.,  243,  has  an  example 
as  here,  of  "  confirmed  and 
bishoped." 

Blacks,  1130  6,  black  garments. 

Blaze,  283  160,  to  blazon. 

Blitheful,  657  l,  718  1,  joyful. 

Blouze,  774  23,  a  cant  term  for 
beggar's  wench. 

Boar-cats,  1124  9,  he-cats. 

Brass,  106  24,  money. 

Brave,  128  14,  admirable,  splen- 
did. 

BruckeFd,  223  58,  begrimed. 

Bucketings,  61  4,  pouring  water 
from  buckets. 

Bulging,  71  2,  the  staving  in  of  a 
ship  ;  connected  with  bilge. 

Burl,  596  2,  108  10,  to  cleanse 
(especially  cloth). 

Candid,  445  5,  900  6,  white.  So 
candidate,  817  2,  and  candor, 
3  l,  A^TV.,  128  11.  See  -white. 

Candle-baudery,  336  54,  smut 
caused  by  candles. 

Carcanet,  34  2,  88  5,  properly  a 
necklace  of  jewels. 

Carouse,  336  127,  to  drink  deeply. 

Gates,  106  109,  dainties. 

Cense,  444  45,  N.N.,  97  6,  98  15, 
to  burn  incense. 

Cess,  100  3,  assessment,  here 
rather  property. 


Ceston,  444  37.  Cestus  is  the  more 
common  form.  Herrick  may 
have  got  this  form  from  Ben 
Jonson. 

Chalcedony,  88  12,  chalcedony,  a 
beautiful  quartz,  milky  in  color, 
with  opaque  veins. 

Chit,  640  13,  to  sprout. 

Chives.  In  223  133,  the  meaning 
seems  to  be  shreds.  It  may  be 
also  in  333  6  and  676  4,  though 
in  these  it  seems  more  naturally 
to  mean  chive  garlic,  a  potherb. 

Circum-,  verbs  compounded  with. 
See  p.  lx. 

Circumstants,  197  85,  bystanders. 

Cirque,  382  5.  Here  used  for 
theatre. 

Cittern,  1038  6,  a  kind  of  guitar. 
More  commonly  spelt  cithern. 

Civility,  83  12,  polish,  good-breed- 
ing. 

Cock-all,  223  59.  The  knuckle- 
bone, with  which  the  boys 
played  as  at  dice. 

Cocker,  106  26,  359  15,  to  pamper, 
to  spoil. 

Cockrood,  664  66,  a  run  for  snar- 
ing woodcocks. 

Coddled,  283  61,  boiled  or  stewed 
(not  the  word  meaning  pam- 
pered). 

Codlin,  223  61,  an  apple. 

Cole-wort,  106  113,  a  cabbage. 

Commended,  293  53.  To  commend 
is  to  bring  to  the  mind  of ; 
"  commend  me  to  So  and  so." 
Here  it  is  curiously  used  in  the 
passive.  In  618  35  it  means  to 
give. 

Compartiement,  654  8.  The  same 
word  as  compartment.  Here  it 
seems  to  be  the  pattern  of  the 
tooling  on  the  cover. 

Complexion,  197  72,  disposition. 


GLOSSARY. 


187 


Comply,  444  98,  577  40,  to  embrace. 

Comportment,  458  5,  949  l,  man- 
ners. 

Consenting,  vb.  int.,  106  32,  ac- 
cording, agreeing  with. 

Continent,  506  2,  742  3,  that  which 
contains.  Used  in  506  of  a 
vase,  in  742  of  an  apron  or  pet- 
ticoat. 

Convince,  197  7,  p.  1 34  40,  to  over- 
power. 

Cornish,  223  20,  cornice. 

Counterproof,  323  5,  proof  against. 

Coxcomb,  763  17,  a  slang  term  for 
the  head,  like  mazzard,  sconce, 
etc. 

Creeking,  726  10.  Apparently  the 
same  word  as  creaking,  al- 
though somewhat  curiously 
used  of  the  noise  of  a  hen. 

Cunctation,  746  2,  922,  delay. 

Currish,  86  11,  like  a  cur,  rude. 

Dandillion,  444  86.  The  connec- 
tion with  lion  is  wholly  obscured 
by  the  penultimate  accent. 

Dardaniiim,  88  8.     See  note. 

Dead,  vb.  tr.,  120  2,  204  12,  323  2, 
788  4.  The  verb  is  now  obso- 
lete, except  intransitively  in 
student's  slang. 

Decurted,  900  8,  cut  off,  abridged. 

Delicates,  106  110,  now  obsolete 
as  a  noun. 

Denounced,  128  47,  proclaimed. 

Designmcnt,  926  1,  design  ;  cf.  af- 
frightment. 

Determine,  577  66,  to  come  to  an 
end. 

Dingthrift,  424  3,  spendthrift. 

Disacquainted,  N.N.,  56  18,  unac- 
quainted. The  word,  though 
rare,  is  to  be  found  elsewhere. 

Discntciate,  701  2,  to  torture ;  cf. 
excruciate. 


Disease,  vb.  tr.,  1030  21,  to  dis- 
turb. 

Disgustful,  6  5,  violently  offen- 
sive. The  word  was  not  un- 
common. 

Disparkling,  444  29,  sparkling 
round  about. 

Disport,  1030  9,  recreation. 

Disposeress,  718  12.  Apparently 
coined. 

Distraction,  83  4,  confusion. 

Divorcement,  197  2,  divorce. 

Dollies,  111  4.  A  cant  term  for 
sweethearts. 

Dolor,  N.N.,  154  2,  pain,  distress. 

Domineer,  894  6.  The  word  is 
used  without  the  bad  sense 
now  common. 

Dukes/tip,  266  1.  The  word  is 
also  found  in  contemporary 
writers. 

Effused,  82  8,  636  4,  poured  out. 

So  effusion,  629  5. 
Enfriezed,  444  67,  having  a  frieze; 

cf.  223  21. 

Enstyled,  444  92,  called. 
Entertainment,  313,  reception. 
Epithalamy,  271  8,  283,  900  12, 

N.N.,  232  12,  a  wedding  song. 
Err,  83  5,  336  63,  N.N.,  233  4,  to 

wander. 

Errors,  444  83,  wanderings. 
-ess,  feminines  in,  see  p.  73. 
Excathedrated,  168  4,  judged  ex 

cathedra. 
Excrutiate,  N.N,  227  2,  to  torture ; 

cf.  discruciate. 

Factor,  375  9.     See  note. 
Fantasy,  106  47,  fancy. 
Farcing,  561  2,  stuffing. 
Fardel,    753    2,    a   burden :    the 

word  was    already   going   out 

of  use. 


188 


GLOSSARY. 


Fat,  250  40,  vat. 

Fetuous,  223  68,  more  properly 
featous,  neat. 

Filleting,  22  6,  900  l,  N.N.,  83  42, 
a  band  tied  about  the  head. 

Firstling,  36  3.  For  such  dimin- 
utives, see  p.  Ix. 

Flosculet,  318  7,  diminutive  from 
floscule,  itself  a  diminutive. 

Fond,  732  10,  foolish. 

Fondling,  23  5.  There  are  con- 
temporary examples  of  this 
word  in  the^  sense  of  one  fon- 
dled. 

Footpace,  223  132,  a  dais ;  here 
rather  a  pedestal. 

Fore-,  nouns  in,  see  p.  Ix. 

Frippery,  223  21,  worthless  adorn- 
ment. 

Frolic,  913  10,  sportive. 

Frumenty,  250  34,  a  country  dish. 

Fuzz-ball,  293  29,  a  puff-pall. 

Genius,  106  1 15,theguardian  spirit. 
Gin,  283  70,  319  7,  engine,  trap. 
Glade,  664  66,  an  opening  in  the 

wood  useful  for  snares. 
Glib,    467    5,   glib    temptations ; 

smooth,  as  ice,  and  therefore 

here  applied  to  something  likely 

to  make  one  fall. 
Gossamore,  444  95,  gossamer, 
Grit,  293  10,  the  coarse  part  of 

the  meal. 

Handsome,  238  13,  494  31.  The 
1 7th  century  use  of  the  word 
was  somewhat  different  from 
our  own.  Here  the  word  is 
applied  (238)  to  anger  and  (494) 
to  hands. 

Handsel,  N.N.,  59  7,  90  2.  The 
handsel  was  a  first  gift,  as  at 
New  Year,  or  a  first  payment 
on  making  a  bargain. 


Hearse,  82  15,  tomb. 

Heave-offering,  N.N.,  258  4.  See 
Exodus  xxix,  27. 

Heyes,  523  30,  a  country  dance. 

Hind,  664  13,  a  rustic. 

Hispid,  559  24,  shaggy  (hispidus). 

Holy-rood,  306  13,  the  Cross. 

Horrid,  323  14,  more  forcible  than 
as  used  to-day,  but  not  in  the 
Latin  sense. 

Huckson,  640  11,  the  hock,  the 
lower  part  of  the  leg. 

Humor,  197  31,  moisture,  fluid. 

Hypostatical,  N.N.,  207  2,  pertain- 
ing to  a  distinct  person. 

Illustrious,  128  14,  giving  light. 

Immensive,  201  25,  687  2.  See 
pp.  Ixi,  Ixii. 

Inapostate,  1102  16,  attentive. 

Inarculum,  541  3,  "a  twig  of 
pomegranate  which  the  queen 
priest  did  use  to  wear  on  her 
head  at  sacrificing."  Note  by 
Herrick. 

Incanonical,  1102  4.  Not  found 
elsewhere. 

Inconveniency,  700  2,  inconven- 
ience. 

Incivility,  86  2,  lack  of  civilized 
manners. 

Incurious,  763  14.  The  word  usu- 
ally means  indifferent.  Here  it 
seems  to  mean  that  the  vil- 
lagers were  simple,  or  not 
curious  in  their  tastes. 

Indignation,  871  2,  unworthiness. 

Ingression,  654  2,  entrance. 

Injeweled,  283  2,  inlaid  with  jew- 
els. 

Inly,  128  46,  inwardly,  and  so,  se- 
cretly. 

Instant,  319  40,  546  22,  present, 
current. 

Intelligence,  526  6,  presiding  spirit. 


GLOSSARY. 


189 


Inter,  verbs  compounded  with,  p. 

74- 
Intext,  654  6,  text,  contents. 

Jet,  N.N.,  123  66.     To  jet  it,  to 

strut,  to  assume  a  haughty  car- 

riage. 
Junket,  763  4.     The  word  has  a 

special   meaning,   but   is   here 

used  in  a  general  sense  for  del- 

icacy. 
Justments,  82  4,  the  things  which 

are  due  :  not  noted  elsewhere. 

Dr.   Grosart    derives   it   from 
ta,  obsequies. 


Ken,  N.N.,  51   9,    to  recognize. 

The  word  seems  to  have  been 

in  current  use  in  Herrick's  day. 
Kingship,  213  43.     Cf.  babyship, 

etc.,  p.  73. 
Killing,   106  124,  293  24,  336  146, 

444  74,  a  kitten. 

Lar,  106  106,  the  household  de- 
ity. 

Larded,  106  111,  run  through  with 
lard,  as  with  certain  richly 
cooked  meats,  and  so,  as  here, 
luxurious. 

Lations,  133  4.  Formed  from 
Lat.  latum,  used  as  p.p.  oifero. 
The  meaning  is  hard  to  deter- 
mine. Perhaps  bearings,  in  the 
sailor's  sense,  would  come  as 
near  Herrick's  idea  as  any- 
thing else. 

Laureate,  359  6.     Rare  as  a  verb. 

Lautitious,  785  3.  Apparently 
coined  from  Lat.  lautitia,  splen- 
dor. 

-let,  diminutives  in,  p.  Ix. 

-ling,  diminutives  in,  p.  Ix. 

Lust,  128  12,  energy. 

Lustre,  82  l,  a  period  of  five  years. 


Manchet,  478  4,  a  small  loaf  of 
the  finest  white  bread. 

Mantle-trees,  333  3,  used  here 
probably  for  mantelpiece. 

Margent,  577  14,  margin,  border. 

Marmalet,  654  14,  marmalade. 

Maukin,  250  9,  a  sort  of  mop. 

Maund,  1070  7,  a  basket, 

Maundy,  N.N.,  123  29.  The  mean- 
ing here  seems  to  be  alms  re- 
ceived, probably  on  account  of 
the  dispensations  on  Maundy 
Thursday. 

Mel,  370  4,  honey. 

-ment,  nouns  in,  p.  Ix. 

Miching,  lid  24,  sneaking,  skulk- 
ing. 

Mickle,  444  6,  640  3,  great,  large. 

Napery,  283  68,  table  linen. 

Nard,  872  7,  an  aromatic  unguent. 

Near,  478  27,  stingy. 

Areat,  10630,  elaborately  prepared. 

Neatherdess,  986  3,  one  of  Her- 
rick's feminines. 

Nectarel,  54  4,  for  nectareal. 

Needihood,  640  16,  neediness. 

Nervelets,  41  8,  a  diminutive,  cf. 
p.lx. 

Novity,  N.N.,  244  2,  newness. 

Nosthrills,  319  8.  The  form  re- 
calls the  etymology. 

Null,  508  14,  to  make  void. 

Orient,  123  11,  178  22,  eastern. 
Outduring,  1131  2,  outlasting. 
Outred,  23  4,  to  surpass  in  redness. 

Paddock,  N.N.,  95  3,  a  frog  or 

toad. 
Pannicles,  716  4,  the  membranes 

enclosing  the  cella  phantastica. 

Cf.  pia  mater  in  Shakespeare. 
Pap,  201  7,  often  meaning  pulp, 

seems  here  to  be  used  for  sap. 


190 


GLOSSARY. 


Parley,  11  7,  conference. 
Peccant,  270,  1064  8,  offending. 
Peeps,  444  49,  the  pips  on  playing 

cards. 
Pettish,  444  17,  angry,  from  pelt, 

anger. 
Perking,  130  7.     To  perk  is  to  be 

jaunty  or  pert. 
Perplexity,  444  24,  intricacy ;  rarely 

found  in  just  this  use. 
Perpolite,  968  2,  highly  polished. 
Perspire,  644  9,  to  breathalhrough. 
Picks,  444  48,  the  diamonds  on 

playing-cards. 
Piggin,    N.N.,    115    5,    a    small 

wooden    vessel. 
Pill,  97  3,  to  rob,  pillage. 
Pipkinet,   N.N.,    130   3,  a   little 

pipkin. 
Placket,  1028  7.    The  placket-hole 

is  the  opening  in  the  side  of  a 

petticoat. 
Poetress,  265  10.  The  word  occurs 

also  in  Spenser. 
Poise,  N.N.,  16  2,  weight. 
Posset,  618  32,  a  mixture  of  hot 

milk  and  wine  or  ale. 
Prank,  250  20,  494  32.     To  prank 

it,  N.N.,  123  67.     Be  pranked, 

523  44.    To  prank  is  to  decorate. 
Precomposed,  839  3,  made  before- 
hand. 

Prefer,  547  9,  to  bring  forward. 
Premonished,  N.N.,  43  5,  warned 

beforehand. 

Prevaricate,  197  87,  to  swerve  from. 
Prevent,  106  21,  to  come  before, 

get  ahead  of. 

Profuser,  691  1,  one  who  is  pro- 
fuse, lavish. 
Progermination,    747    8,    origin, 

birth. 
Proptilsive,  450  1,  propelling.  The 

word  does  not  commonly  occur 

before  the  igth  century. 


Protestant,  267  2,  see  the  note. 
Proto-notary,   N.N.,    72   2,   chief 

notary. 
Purfling,  577  14  ;  to  ptirfle  is  to 

embroider  on  the  edge. 
Purl,  494  4,  to  make  a  murmuring 

sound.    Generally  used  of  water, 

but  here  of  the  oaten-pipe. 
Purslane,  N.N.,  47  41,  a  potherb. 
Pushes,  596  1,  pustules. 

Quarelets,  75  8,  diminutive  of 
quarry,  a  square  or  lozenge. 

Quick,  -vb.,  128  5,  to  enliven, 
strengthen. 

(?z«V£,  499  12,  alive. 

Quickened,  78  6,  given  life. 

Quintal,  664  52,  quintain,  see  the 
note. 

Rape,  106  126,  capture. 
/?«/^,    N.N.,    112     l,    snatched, 
'  taken  by  force. 
Re-,  verbs  compounded  with,  see 

p.  Ix. 
Reaved,  N.N.,  123  22,  reft,  taken 

by  force. 
Rec -tress,  1082  15,  is  more  correct 

as  a  form  than  poetress. 
Redeem,  444  26,  to  regain. 
Regredience,  658  2,  return. 
Reiterate,  1030  3,  to  walk  over 

again. 
Religious,  14  8,  22  5,  82  2,  138  3, 

sacred. 

Remora,   35    4,    a    delaying   sea- 
monster;   see  the  note. 
Repullulate,  336  23,  to  bud  again. 

So  repullulation,  796  4. 
Repurgation,  510  4,  a  clearing. 
Requesters,  N.N.,  30  3,  petitioners. 
Resident,  521  4,  remaining. 
Respasses,  375  20,  raspberries. 
Retorted,    201    12,    twisted    back 

(from  the  forehead). 


GLOSSARY. 


191 


Ribbanding,  618  28,  986  26,  an 
ornament  of  ribbons. 

Ruby  let,  654  10,  a  coined  diminu- 
tive. 

Russet,  664  60,  of  a  reddish  brown 
color,  hence  homely,  rustic, 
country-made  cloth  being  (or 
having  been)  of  the  russet  color. 

Sack,  128, 197.  In  Herrick's  time 
the  name  was  given  to  almost 
any  white  wine,  except  Rhen- 
ish. 

Sag,  293  33,  heavy. 

Saintship,  223  33,  498  3.  See 
p.  Ix. 

Salvages,  86  12,  278  4,  savages. 

Saturity,  N.N.,  138  2,  repletion. 

Scarlets,  23  7,  pieces  of  scarlet 
cloth. 

Sciagraphy,  347  2,  a  picture.  The 
N.L.  sciagraphia  is  first  re- 
marked, 1650. 

Securely,  106  35,  safely. 

Shagged,  128  15,  shaggy. 

Shepherdling,  2  12,  523  36.  See 
p.lx. 

-ship,  nouns  in.     See  p.  Ix. 

Skills,  823  6,  avails. 

Slit,  336  86,  sleet. 

Shig-a-bed,  178  5.  Cf.  Romeo  and 
Juliet,  iv,  5,  2. 

Smallage,  82  9,  the  celery  plant, 
especially  when  wild. 

Smirk,  adj.,  283  67,  377  72,  smart, 
spruce. 

Smirk,  vb.,  504  3,  smirking,  250  36. 
Exactly  what  idea  Herrick  had 
in  mind  in  using  this  word  with 
wine  would  be  hard  to  say.  He 
probably  meant  either  that  the 
wine  made  others  cheerful,  or 
that  it  looked  so  itself. 

Snugging,  78  3,  snuggling. 

Souce,  640  7,  pickle. 


Sparables,  650  2,  nails    used   in 

cobbling. 

Spars,  N.N.,  47  5,  beams. 
Spartaness,  142  8.     See  p.  Ix. 
Speed,  36  13,  outcome.    Generally 

of  good  fortune,  but  not  so  here. 
Sphering,  336  148,  passing  round 

about. 
Spiceries,    375   2,    places    where 

spices  are  kept. 
Spirt,    8   5,    106   60,    apparently 

means  to  splitter.     In  106,  one 

of  the  MSS.  reads  crackling. 
Starve,  81  12,  115  16,  N.N.,  83  70, 

to  die  (or  make  to  die)  of  cold. 

In  293  14,  it  means  to  deprive 

of  sustenance. 
Statist,  490,  statesman. 
Still,  763  4,  923  2,  always. 
Stomacher,  83  6,  the  lower  part  of 

the  bodice  in  front. 
Storax,  -577  8,  a   sweet-smelling 

gum. 
Strut,  672  21,  to  swell,  to  bulge 

out. 

Suppling,  377  51,  tender. 
Supremest,  14  6, 327  2,  840  6, 1030 

l,  last. 

Swerved,  81  10,  wandered. 
Swinger,  1037  24,  as  we  should 

say,  a  good  one. 

Tardidation,  N.N.,  137  6,  delay ; 
Lat.  tardidatio. 

Teem,  vb.  tr.,  257  5,  to  bring  forth. 

Teend,  786  12,  788  2,  895  5,  to 
kindle  ;  cf.  tind,  tinder. 

Tersely,  106  27,  without  extrava- 
gance. 

These-like,  197  84.     Cf.  such-like. 

Thronelet,  821  8,  coined.  See  p. 
Ix. 

Thyrse,  1 1 1  8, 201  32, 336 135, 546  9, 
the  staff  symbolic  of  the  wor- 
ship of  Bacchus. 


192 


GLOSSARY. 


Tiffany,  283  8,  a  kind  of  thin  silk. 

Tincture,  23  8,  193  32,  color,  tint. 

Tityries,  319  2,  roisterers.  See 
note. 

To,  223  97,  in  addition  to. 

Tods,  769  l,  bunches. 

Toning,  452  4,  sound. 

Trammel-net,  664  65,  883  2,  com- 
monly used  of  a  kind  of  fishing- 
net,  but  not  so  here. 

Transpire,  375  17,  577  7,  to  ex- 
hale. 

Transshift,  1  9,  594  3,  to  inter- 
change. 

Tucker,  596  2,  a  fuller. 

Turbant,  223  138,  a  turban. 

Tyrant,  97  5,  with  the  classical 
meaning  of  tisurper. 

Un-,  adjectives  in,  see  p.  Ix. 
Unfled,  N.N.,M  22,  not  mouldy  (?) . 
Unsluice,  35  10,  to  open  the  flood- 
gates. 

Unsmooth,  N.N.,  137  4,  rough. 
Unthrift,  274  17,  a  prodigal. 


Volumed,  331  4,  enrolled. 

Wantonness,  1  6,  83  2,  sport,  spor- 
tiveness. 

Warden,  375  23,  a  kind  of  pear. 

Watched,  223  73,  284  3,  watchet,  a 
pale  blue. 

Weed,  306  2,  garment. 

Whenas,  178 13,  and. passim,  when, 
or  sometimes  whenever. 

Whipping-cheer,  N.N.,  265  8,  chas- 
tisement. 

White,  77  ll,  313  2, 336  40,  758  12, 
.yV.vV.,128,  auspicious,  lucky.  So 
w/Wfcr,  106  71,  547  8,  N.N., 
1289. 

Whitflaivs,  444  59,  a  whitlow, 
felon. 

Yerk,  377  21,  1052  1,  to  irk,  an- 
noy. 

Zonulet,  114  3,  diminutive  from 
zonule,  which  is  itself  a  diminu- 
tive from  zone.  Ct.Jlosculet. 


INDEX  TO  FIRST  LINES. 


THIS  Index  has  been  prepared  to  facilitate  reference  not  only  to 
this  selection,  but  also  to  the  editions  of  Grosart  and  Pollard.  To 
the  former,  the  references  are  by  volume  and  page ;  to  the  latter, 
and  to  this  selection,  the  reference  is  by  number.  Each  of  the  edi- 
tions named  has  its  own  index,  but  it  seems  convenient  to  have  all 
three  together. 


Number  Vol.  and 

in  P.  p.  in  G. 

89  A  funeral  stone  .     .     I,  50 

499  A  golden  fly  one  show'd  to 

me       ....      II,  140 

292  A   little    mushroom    table 

spread     ....  II,  24 

(In  this  edition  comes  after  223.) 

323  A  man  prepar'd  against  all 

ills  to  come.     .     .  II,  40 

83  A    sweet    disorder    in    the 

dress I,  46 

223  A  way  enchas'd  with  glass 
and  beads    .     .     .  I,  i 56 
444  After  the  feast,  my  Shap- 
cot,  see   ...      II,  104 
1125  After  thy  labor  take  thine 
ease    ....      Ill,  86 
913  Ah,  Ben      .     .     .      Ill,  n 
191  Ah,  cruel  Love!  must  I  en- 
dure     I,  128 

14  Ah,  my  Perilla !   do'st  thou 

grieve  to  see     .    .     I,  14 

336  Ah,  Posthumus!  our  years 

hence  fly      .     .     .  II,  47 

832  All  has  been  plundered  from 

me  but  my  wit       II,  286 


Number  Vol.  and 

in  P.  p.  in  G. 

N.N.,  121  Along   the  dark  and 

silent  night    .    .  Ill,  174 

856  Anthea,  I  am  going  hence 

II,  294 

1 14  As  shows  the  air,  when  with 

a  rainbow  grac'd  .     I,  68 

619  As  wearied  Pilgrims,  once 

possess'd     .      .     II,  190 

582  Ask  me  why  I   send   you 

here    ....      II,  177 

393  At  my  homely  country  seat 

II,83 

605  Be  bold,  my  book,  nor  be 

abash'd,  or  fear     II,  185 

N.N.,  230  Be   those  few  hours, 

which    I    have     yet     to 

spend.     .     .     .    Ill,  206 

446  Besides  us  two,  i'  th'  Temple 
here's  not  one  .  II,  no 

267  Bid  me  to  live,  and  I  will 
live II,  6 

314  Blessings  in  abundance 
come II,  34 

280  Both  you  two  have  .  II,  1 1 


194 


INDEX    TO   FIRST  LINES. 


Number 


Vol.  and 


in  P.  p.  in  G. 

890  Bring    the    holy    crust    of 

bread Ill,  2 

704  By  the  weak'st  means  things 
mighty  are  o'erthrown 

II,  230 

371  Call  me  no  more  .  II,  67 
227  Charm  me  asleep,  and  melt 

me  so  .  .  .  •  .  .  I,  165 
732  Charon,  O  gentle  Charon, 

let  me  woo  thee  II,  244 
53  Cherry  ripe,  ripe,  ripe,  I  cry 

1.33 

526  Clear  are  her  eyes     II,  153 

872  Come,  and  let's  in  solemn 

wise    ....      II,  299 

763  Come,  Anthea,  let  us  two 

II,  256 

786  Come,  bring  with  a  noise 

II,  270 

787  Come  guard  this  night  the 

Christmas-pie  .  II,  271 
618  Come,  sit  we  under  yonder 

tree  ....  II,  189 
250  Come,  sons  of  summer,  by 

whose  toil  .  .  .  I,  175 
577  Come,  then,  and  like  two 

doves  with  silv'ry  wings 

II,  173 
517  Come,  thou,  who   art   the 

wine  and  wit  II,  146 
725  Command  the  roof,  great 

Genius,  and  from  thence 
II.  239 

86  Dean    Bourn,    farewell  ;    I 
never  look  to  see  .     I,  48 
629  Dearest  of  thousands,  now 
the  time  draws  near 

II,  195 
486  Dew  sat  on  Julia's  hair 

II,  132 


Number 
in  P. 


Vol.  and 
p.  in  G. 


894  Down  with  the  rosemary 
and  bays  .  .  .  Ill,  4 

982  Down  with  the  rosemary, 
and  so  ...  Ill,  38 

896  End  now  the  white  loaf  and 
the  pie  ....  Ill,  6 

316  Fair  Daffodils,  we  weep  to 

see II,  35 

469  Fair  pledges  of  a  fruitful 

tree     ....      II,  124 

1131   Fame's  pillar  here  at  last 

we  set      ...      Ill,  88 

128  Farewell,  thou  thing,  time 

past  so  known,  so  dear 

I,/  6 

70  First,  April,  she  with  mel- 
low showers     .     .     I,  38 
no  Fone    says,    those    mighty 
whiskers  he  does  wear 

I,  66 
986  For  a  kiss  or  two,  confess 

HI,  39 

851   For  all  our  works  a  recom- 
pense is  sure      .      II,  292 
327  For  my  embalming,  Julia, 
do  but  this     .      .     II,  42 
N.N.,  2  For  those,  my  unbaptised 
rhymes    .     .     .    Ill,  119 
391   Frolic   virgins    once   these 

were II,  82 

299  From  noise  of  scare-fires 
rest  ye  free  .  .  .II,  28 

208  Gather  ye   rosebuds  while 

ye  may  .  .  .  .  I,  144 
178  Get  up,  get  up  for  shame; 

the  blooming  morn  1, 1 16 
90  Give  me  that  man  that 

dares  bestride  .  .  I,  51 
607  Give  want  her  welcome  if 

she  comes;  we  find  II,  186 


INDEX   TO  FIRST  LINES. 


195 


Number  Vol.  and 

in  P.  p.  in  G. 

478  Give  way,  give  way,  ye  gates, 

and  win  ...      II,  128 

123  Glide,  gentle  streams,  and 

bear I,  72 

548  Go   I   must  ;    when    I    am 

gone    ....      II,  162 

N.N.,  59    Go,  pretty   child,   and 

bear  this  flower    III,  143 

1127  Go  thou   forth,   my  book, 

though  late  .     .      Ill,  86 

N.N.,  7  God,  when  He's    angry 

here  with  any  one, 

III,  121 
532  Goddess,  I  begin  an  art 

".  ISS 
337  Goddess,  I  do  love  a  girl 

11.55 

218  Gold  I've  none,  for  use  or 
show I,  153 

213  Good  day,  Mirtillo.     Mirt. 

And  to  you  no  less  I,  148 
413  Good  morrow  to  the  day  so 

fair II,  89 

97  Good     princes     must     be 
pray'd  for  ;  for  the  bad 

1.54 

214  Good  speed,  for  I  this  day 

I,  150 

1032  Great  cities  seldom  rest :  if 
there  be  none  .      Ill,  57 
488  Great  men  by  small  means 
oft  are  overthrown 

II.  133 

893  Hang  up  hooks  and  shears 
to  scare  ....  Ill,  3 

603  He  who  has  suffer'd  ship- 
wreck fears  to  sail  II,  184 
1071  Help  me,  Julia,  for  to  pray 

III,  70 
621   Her    eyes    the    glowworm 

lend  thee      .     .      II,  191 
527  Her  pretty  feet    .      II,  153 


Number  Vol.  and 

in  P.  p.  in  G. 

N.N.,  95  Here   a  little    child    I 

stand     .     .     .      Ill,  158 

452  Here   a    solemn    feast   we 

keep   ....      II,  113 

306  Here    down     my    wearied 

limbs  I'll  lay     .     .  II,  30 

554  Here,  here  I  live      JI,  116 

912  Here  lies  Jonson  with  the 

rest     ....      Ill,  it 

310  Here  lies,  a  pretty  bud  11,32 

840  Here   she   lies,  in   bed   of 

spice     ....      II,  289 

57   Here  we  are  all  by  day;  by 

night  w'  are  hurl'd     I,  35 

546  Here  we  securely  live  and 

eat II,  160 

475  Holy-rood,  come  forth  and 
shield.     .     .     .      II,  126 
976  Holy  waters  hither  bring 

III,  36 

706  How  could  Luke  Smeaton 
wear  a  shoe  or  boot 

II,  230 

359  How    dull    and    dead    are 

books,  that  cannot  show 

11,62 

88  How  rich  and  pleasing  thou, 
my  Julia,  art    .     .     I,  50 

653  I  am  holy  while  I  stand 

II,  208 

462  I  am  of  all  bereft      II,  119 

[v.  II,  p.  263]  I  have  beheld  two 

lovers,  in  a  night  III,  101 

(In  this  edition,  p.  133.) 

39  I  have  lost,  and  lately,  these 

1,27 

625  I  make  no  haste  to  have 

my  numbers  read  II,  193 

23  I  saw  a  cherry  weep,  and 

why I,  19 

819  I  saw  a  fly  within  a  bead 

II,  280 


196 


INDEX    TO   FIRST  LINES. 


Number  Vol.  and 

in  P.  p.  in  G. 

1030  I  send,  I  send  here  my  su- 

premest  kiss     .      Ill,  56 

i   Isingofbrooks,ofblossoms, 

birds,  and  bowers        I,  7 

N.N,,  115  I  would  to  God  that 

mine  old  age  might  have 

III,  172 

225  If  after  rude  and  boist'rous 

seas I,  164 

22  If,   dear  Anthea,  my  hard 

fate  it  be      ...     I,  19 

962  If  hap  it  must,  that  I  must 

see  thee  lie  .     .      Ill,  29 

1 104  If  kings  and  kingdoms  once 

distracted  be    .      Ill,  81 

1126  I  '11  write  no  more  of  love; 

but  now  repent      III,  86 

421   I'm  sick  of  love;   oh,  let 

me  lie      ....  II,  92 

58  In   man,    ambition   is    the 

common'st  thing       I,  35 
N.N.,  33  In   numbers,   and    but 
these  few     .     .    Ill,  128 
8  In  sober  mornings  do  not 
thou  rehearse  .     .     I,  1 1 
JV.JV.,  41   In  the  hour  of  my  dis- 
tress  ....    Ill,  132 
784  In  this  little  urn  is  laid 

II,  268 
N.N.,  228  Is  this  a  fast  to  keep 

III,  204 

445  I've  paid  thee  what  I  prom- 
ised    ....      II,  no 
(In  this  edition,  comes  after  223.) 

59  Julia,  if  I  chance  to  die 

1.35 

895  Kindle  the  Christmas  brand, 
and  then      .     .     .  Ill,  5 
1039  Know  when  to  speak ;  for 
many  times  it  brings 

III,  60 


Number  Vol.  and 

in  P.  p.  in  G. 

50  Laid  out  for  dead,  let  thy 

last  kindness  be  .  I,  32 
973  Let  kings  and  rulers  learn 

this  line  from  me  III,  34 
345  Let  kings  command  and  do 

the  best  they  may  II,  58 
891  Let  the  superstitious  wife 

III,3 
1 86  Life  of  my  life,  take  not  so 

soon  thy  flight  .  1,125 
194  Like  to  a  bride  come  forth, 

my  book,  at  last  .  I,  131 
523  Live,  live  with  me,  and  thou 

shalt  see  .     .     .      II,  150 
N.N.,  i   Look  how  our  foul  days 

do  exceed  our  fair 

III,  119 
908  Look  in  my  book,  and  herein 

see Ill,  9 

N.N.,  47  Lord,  thou  hast  given 

me  a  cell  .  .  Ill,  135 
956  Lost  to  the  world,  lost  to 

myself,  alone    .      Ill,  26 
841   Love  is  a  circle,  and  an  end- 
less sphere  .     .      II,  289 
29  Love  is  a  circle,  that  doth 

restless  move  .     .     I,  21 

846  Make  haste  away,  and  let 

one  be  ...  II,  290 
709  Men  are  not  born  kings,  but 

are  men  renown'd  II,  231 
923  Men  are  suspicious,  prone 

to  discontent  .  Ill,  16 
325  Mighty  Neptune,  may.  it 

please  ....  II,  41 
206  Money  thou  ow'st  me ; 

prithee  fix  a  day   .  I,  144 

51  More    discontents   I  never 

had I,  32 

188  Muchmore    provides,    and 
hoards  up  like  an  ant 

1,127 


INDEX   TO  FIRST  LINES. 


197 


Number 


Vol.  and 


in  P.  p.  in  G. 

224  My  Muse  in  meads  has  spent 

her  many  hours       I,  163 

1129  My  wearied  bark,  O  let  it 

now  be  crown'd     III,  87 

N.N.,  77  Night  hath  no  wings  to 
him  that  cannot  sleep 

III,  149 

1076  No  man  so  well  a  kingdom 

rules  as  he  .     .      Ill,  71 

319  No  news  of  navies  burnt  at 

seas II>  36 

547  Nor  is  my  number  full  till 
I  inscribe     .     .      II,  162 
201   Now  is  the  time  for  mirth 

1,138 

55  Now  is  the  time  when  all 

the  lights  wax  dim    I,  34 

1037  Now,  now  the  mirth  comes 

III,  58 

969  Now  thou  art  dead,  no  eye 
shall  ever  see  .     Ill,  33 

N.N.,  83  O  thou,  the  wonder  of 

all  days   .     .     .    Ill,  151 

598  O  times  most  bad     II,  183 

N.N.,  fin.  Of  all  the  good  things 

whatso'er  we  do  III,  224 

420  Of  four  teeth  only  Bridget 

was  possess'd     .     II,  92 

959  Offer  thy  gift ;  but  first  the 

law  commands    .  Ill,  28 

436  Old  Parson  Beans  hunts  six 

days  of  the  week  II,  101 

•  636  One  night  i'  th'  year,  my 

dearest  beauties,  come 

II,  200 

2ii  Only  a  little  more    .  1,146 

753  Other  men's  sins  we  ever 

bear  in  mind    .      II,  253 

549  Our     mortal      parts,     may 

wrapp'd  in  cerecloths,  lie 

II,  163 


Number  Vol.  and 

in  P.  p.  in  G. 

503  Parrat  protests,  'tis  he  and 

only  he    ...      II,  141 

1128  Part  of  the  work  remains, 

one  part  is  past      III,  87 

1028  Partly  work  and  partly  play 

"I.  55 

929  Praise  they  that  will  times 

.  past,  I  joy  to  see   III,  18 

N.N.,  2  1  5  Predestination   is   the 

cause  alone  .     .    Ill,  202 

538  Preposterous   is   that  gov- 

ernment and  rude  II,  157 

302  Prue,  my  dearest  maid,  is 

sick     .....  II,  29 

54  Put  on  your  silks,  and  piece 

by  piece  .     .     .     .    I,  33 


525  Rare   are  thy  cheeks,   Su- 
sanna, which  do  show 

n,  153 

223  Rare    temples    thou    hast 

seen,  I  know    .     .  I,  156 

278  Rise,  Household  gods,  and 

let  us  go  .     .     .     .  II,  10 

258  Roses  at  first  were  white 

II,  i 

490  Shame  is  a  bad  attendant 

to  a  state  .  .  II,  133 
293  Shapcot  !  to  thee  the  fairy 

state   .....  II,  24 

(In  this  edition,  comes  after  223.) 

442  Shut    not    so    soon  ;     the 

dull-ey'd  night  .  II,  102 
247  So  Good-luck  came,  and  on 

my  roof  did  light  I,  174 
813  So  look  the  mornings  when 

the  sun  ...  II,  278 
375  So  smell  those  odors  that 

do  rise  .  .  .  .  II,  69 
67  So  smooth,  so  sweet,  so 

silv'ry  is  thy  voice     I,  37 


198 


INDEX    TO   FIRST  LINES. 


Number  Vol.  and 

in  P.  p.  in  G. 

197  So  soft   streams   meet,  so 

springs      with      gladder 

smiles      .     .     .     .  I,  133 

(In  this  edition,  comes  after  128.) 

556  Some  parts  may  perish,  die 
thou  canst  not  all  II,  165 

360  Stately  goddess,  do  thou 
please  .  .  .  .  II,  63 

386  Store  of  courage  to  me 

grant II,  80 

1035  Studies  themselves  will  lan- 
guish and  decay  III,  58 

664  Sweet  country  life,  to  such 
unknown  .  .  II,  212 

255  Sweet  western  wind,  whose 
luck  it  is  .  .  .  I,  179 


870  Take  mine  advice,  and  go 

not  near  .     .     .     II,  298 

883  Tell  me  what  needs  those 

rich  deceits  .     .      II,  303 

N.N.,  102  Tell  us,  thou  clear  and 

heavenly  tongue  III,  165 

82  That  for  seven  lustres  I  did 

never  come .     .     .     I,  45 

1069  That   prince   must   govern 

with  a  gentle  hand 

111,68 

1105  That  prince  who   may  do 
nothing  but  what's  just 

III,  81 

439  That  Princes  may  possess 

a  surer  seat      .      II,  101 

1021  The  bound,  almost,  now  of 

my  book  I  see       III,  53 

269  The    gods    to    kings    the 

judgment  give  to  sway 

11,8 

645  The  hag  is  astride    II,  205 

697  The  maypole  is  up    II,  228 

586  The  Saint's  bell  calls  and, 

Julia,  I  must  read  II,  179 


Number  Vol.  and 

in  P.  p.  in  G. 

1130  The  work  is  done;  young 
men  and  maidens  set 

III,  87 

387  These    summer    birds   did 
with  thy  master  stay 

II,  80 
262  Thou  art  to  all  lost  love  the 

best II,  3 

N.N.,  53  Thou  bidd'st  me  come 
away  .     .     .     .    Ill,  140 
855  Thou     hast     made     many 
houses  for  the  dead 

II,  294 

541   Thou    know'st,    my    Julia, 
that  it  is  thy  turn 

II,  158 

366  Thou  shalt  not  all  die ;  for 
while  Love's  fire  shines 

11,66 

876  Thou,  tho.u  that  bear'st  the 

sway   ....      II,  300 

726  Though  clock.     .      II,  240 

324  Though  I  cannot  give  thee 

fires II,  41 

47  Three  lovely  sisters  work- 
ing were  .     .     .     .    I,  31 
106  Thrice  and  above   bless'd, 
my  soul's  half,  art  thou 

I>57 

477  Thus  I   ....      II,  127 
N.JV.,  38  Time  was  upon  III,  130 
716  'Tis  not  ev'ry  day  that  I 

II,  234 

719  'Tis  not  the  walls,  or  pur- 
ple that  defends    II,  257 
708  'Tis  said,  as  Cupid  danc'd 
among     ...      II,  231 
1V.1V.,   221   To    all    our    wounds 
here,  whatsoe'er  they  be 
III,  203 

273  To  cleanse  his  eyes,  Tom 
Brock  makes  much  ado 
11,9 


INDEX    TO  FIRST  LINES. 


199 


Number  Vol.  and 

in  P.  p.  in  G. 

1 2  To  get  thine  ends,  lay  bash- 
fulness  aside     .     .     I,  14 
714  To  loose  the  button  is  no 
less     ....      II,  232 
32  To  me  my  Julia  lately  sent 
I,  22 

251  To-morrow,  Julia,  I  betimes 
must  rise     .     .     .  I,  178 
853  Touch    but    thy    lyre,   my 
Harry,  and  I  hear 

II,  293 

827  'Twas      Caesar's      saying : 

Kings  no  less  conquerors 

are      ....      II,  284 

25  'Twixt  kings  and  subjects 

there's  this  mighty  odds 

I,  20 

849  Two  things  do  make  soci- 
ety to  stand      .      II,  291 

579  Urles  had  the  gout  so,  that 
he  could  not  stand 

II,  177 

626  Wantons  we  are;  and  though 
our  words  be  such 

II,  194 

788  Wash  your  hands,  or  else 

the  fire    .     .     .      II,  271 

789  Wassail  the  trees,  that  they 

may  bear      .     .      II,  271 
313  Welcome!   but  yet  no  en- 
trance till  we  bless  II,  33 
205  Welcome,  maids  of  honor 

I,  H3 

77  Welcome,  most  welcome  to 
our  vows  and  us  .     I,  41 
985  Welcome  to  this,  my  Col- 
lege, and  though  late 

HI,  39 

Vol.  I,  p.  i  Well  may  my  book 
come  forth  like  public 
day I,  5 


Number  Vol.  and 

in  P.  p.  in  G. 

334  What  can  I  do  in  poetry 

II,  46 

447  What  Conscience,  say,  is  it 

in  thee     .     .     .      II,  in 

N.N.,  96  What    sweeter    music 

can  we  bring    .    Ill,  159 

192  What  was't   that   fell    but 

now I,  128 

283  What's   that  we  see  from 
far  ?  the  spring  of  day 

II,  12 
606  When  I  a  verse  shall  make 

II,  185 
279  When  I  departed  am,  ring 

thou  my  knell  .     .  II,  n 
654  When  I  go  hence,  ye  closet 

gods,  I  fear      .      II,  208 
610  When  laws  full  power  have 

to  sway,  we  see      II,  186 
N.N.,  37   When  once  the  sin  has 

fully  acted  been  III,  130 
35  When     that     day     comes, 

whose  evening  says  I'm 

gone I,  24 

781   Whenas  in  silks  my  Julia 

goes    ....      II,  267 
181   While,  Lydia,  I  was  lov'd 

of  thee     .     .     .     .  I,  120 
1 1 1   While  the  milder  fates  con- 
sent     I,  66 

3  While  thou  didst  keep  thy 

candor  undefil'd    .     I,  10 
2  Whither,  mad  maiden,  wilt 

thou  roam    ...       I,  8 
288  Who  forms  a  godhead  out 

of  gold  or  stone    .  II,  22 
696  Who,    railing,    drives    the 

lazar  from  his  door 

II,  228 
662  Who  read'st  this  book  that 

I  have  writ  .     .      II,  211 
608  Who  with  a  little  cannot  be 

content    ...      II,  186 


200 


INDEX   TO  FIRST  LINES. 


Number 


Vol.  and 


in  P.  p.  in  G. 

256  Why  do  not  all  fresh  maids 

appear     .     .     .     .  I,  180 

257  Why   do    ye   weep,   sweet 

babes?  Can  tears    I,  181 

36  Why   this    flower   is    now 

call'd  so      ...      I,  24 

367  Wrinkles  no  more  are,  or 

no  less    .     .     .     .    II,  66 


Number  Vol.  and 

in  P.  p.  in  G. 

274  Ye  have  been  fresh  and 
green II,  9 

443  Ye  pretty  huswives,  would 
ye  know  ...  II,  103 

451  Ye  silent  shades  whose  each 
tree  here  .  .  II,  112 

216  You  are  a  Tulip,  seen  to- 
day   I,  152 


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